


Gemini Saga

by ThornStone8773



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Dimensional Travel, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Time Travel, Tragedy, Unreliable Narrator(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornStone8773/pseuds/ThornStone8773
Summary: A not-so-ordinary teenager trying to live an ordinary life, despite his heart desired the opposite. A fated encounter with a young boy might grant him his dream, though, in the way he never expected.





	1. Now, It Began.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks go to Aristania and Lady Blood Dove for being a dear friend, my Sensei for helping me improved my English, and Ruby Luxuria, whose original story awaken my passion to continue this story.

Gemini Saga

0.

Prologue

Cloudless blue skies let the warm sunlight touched the earth. Wind blew soothingly across the prairies, ruffling the grasses, causing them to make a gurgling, pattering sound akin to a drizzling rain. Birds chirping merrily on the trees, some flapping their wings to reach the skies, hares, prairie dogs and red foxes could be glimpsed from time to time scurrying beneath the grasses.

The lush, open field stretched out far into the horizon, vast and empty, instilling a sense of isolation within one’s self, giving life to the feeling that you were no more significant than a speck of dust. It was easy to believe that you were the last living being on the planet just by simply standing here for a minute, despite evidences pointed to the contrary that life existed here in myriad of forms and diversities.

Such like the civilisation hidden behind the walled city situated in the middle of the prairies.

Relict of a long-forgotten war, Libiros City had once been a fortress, protecting the soldiers that resided within it from their enemies. The tall walls that fortified it had withstood many heavy types of weaponry without leaving any scar on its smooth surface. Occasional encounter with forces of nature only managed to wash out its original white colour to murky, greyish yellow. Yet, the old walls still stood strong and proud.

Now, the walls shielded its occupants mostly from unreasonable fear that kept them from venturing outside. Three centuries had passed since the city’s massive ornate steel gates had been open. The existence of _Warp Ring_ , the solar-powered teleporting device located at the city hall was the sole reason the city had not been completely disconnected from outside world.

Regardless, the citizens were content in their monotonous daily life, not once considering what the world outside of the walls had to offer. The select few who did have left the city a long time ago and some were content not to go back, never heard again since.

In return, the outside world took no interest on what was happening behind Libiros’ walls.

In other words, this city was a perfect place for a person to disappear and started a new life with new identity.

Even so, the peaceful life in the city could be quite suffocating and tiresome. Sometime, a person just had to get away from it all, if only temporary.

Like this one young sixteen-year-old for example, the one brave soul daring enough to venture outside the walls.

He was soundly asleep, sprawled out on his back over the green grass on top of a tall hill located thirteen hundred miles from outside the city. Dark brown jacket folded beneath his head as a makeshift pillow, a brown cabbie hat covered the upper half of his face, protecting his sight from the sun.

He came here seeking respite from humanity, their society, and the chance to put down the mask he wore like second skin if only for a moment.

He had found peace here in this mankind-forsaken field.

Unfortunately, today, that peace was shattered.

The sense of impending doom felt like intimate touch of cold blade against his throat, one wrong move and the sharp edge would cut his blood vessels open. The sensation was enough to disperse the light-headedness and lingering sleepiness that usually accompanied a person when they woke up from their sleep. The moment he returned to the conscious world, he was instantly alert; all senses clear and sharp as though he had simply closed his eyes for a few second instead of just mere four hours and thirty minutes.

The melodious song of birds that played from dawn to dusk abruptly stop, replaced by deadly silence so thick you could hear your own heartbeats in the quiet.

Zephyr too was absent, leaving the grasses standing forlornly, wondering where their playmate had gone.

Still, he fought the reflective motion to open his eyelids. He did not want to acknowledge the reality just yet. In fact, he was tempted to dismiss this as a very lucid nightmare, a by-product of exhausted mind after three weeks of brainstorming for exam.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he wished to be wrong, he was too aware of the differences between dream and reality to fooling himself otherwise.

Perhaps, he reasoned, this was Spider Lily’s fault. Occasionally, the she-spider liked to come down from her nest in the mountain and passed through the area, prompting all those in the vicinity to become quiet out of self-preservation.

However, the constant thrummed of _animarum_ , the lifeblood of the planet running beneath the ground had also, very suddenly vanished… something that not even in his greatest nightmare he considered would ever happened. Added by the fact that his danger sense was ringing insistently at the back of his mind with the intensity of fire alarm when it usually tinkling like a wind chime, he was forced to acknowledge this as reality.

Therefore, with great reluctance, Batbayar removed the cabbie hat covering his visage, revealing a sun tanned, heart-shaped face framed by a mess of dark shaggy hair, and eased his eyes open, squinting when bright, unforgiving light replaced the comforting darkness, stabbing his retinas like hot needles.

Blinking dark splotches across his vision, Batbayar swiftly propped himself up into a sitting position and wiped the crust from his eyes. Out of habit, he lifted his arms above his head and stretched, feeling his spines popping pleasantly.

Cracking his neck, brushing off grasses clinging to his jacket and sleeveless shirt, then slipping the former back on before rising to his feet, setting his gaze toward the west, watching the thick fog sweeping over the forest like waves on the foreshore, blanketing everything in white froth.

Looking as inconspicuous as ordinary man walking down the street was, those who crossed path with him would spare the man no thought, dismissing him as just another faces in the crowds.

... Until they saw him on the headline news, proven guilty of committing manslaughter on a nearby elementary school.

That was how the fog looked like to ordinary people, a killer hiding behind innocence façade.

Gaze shifted away from the fog, in a blink, dark brown irises changed into carnelian red, white sclera faded to black, round pupils narrowed to slits, they fell on a single wildflower growing at the edge of the forest. It had not bloom yet, just a tiny yellow bud striving to survive, waiting patiently for the time of its debut, to show its beauty to the cruel world.

Unfortunately, that time would never come.

The fog swept over the flower and, before the white veil completely obscured it from view, Batbayar watched with furrowed brows as the lovely yellow faded to rust, its stem that once stood with pride, bowed like a frail old man taking his last breath and it fell and became one with the decaying grasses.

Apathetic to what it had done, the fog continued its journey, moving slowly, steadily, silently, like a thief in the dead of night, creeping closer and closer toward the city, all while devouring everything on its path like plague of locust.

Batbayar blinked, carnelian red changed back to dark brown, and peered over his shoulder, looking at the tall walls that fortified Libiros City. After five centuries since they were built, those walls would finally fail in serving its purposed.

Closing his eyes, Batbayar let out a small pulse of his energy. It spread wide, instantly encompassing the land in its entirety. His power worked like active sonar and he waited and listened for the echoes to return from their target. He was not as talented as auntie was, but it was enough. He had found what he was seeking.

Hidden within the mountain behind the forest was a meadow with a small, picturesque lake on its centre. Its ground held the largest reservoir of animarum in the Mirfield sector. The place he called home for the past seven years was known as the land of Eternal Summer. Its climate offered almost yearlong sunny skies, rains rarely fell here; if not for the high concentration of animarum flowing underneath the surface providing nutrition to the soil, life would never have a chance to flourish in this land.

In this very moment, the source of the fog was there, greedily sucking at the land’s lifeblood like a vampire consumed by bloodlust.

Batbayar’s brows furrowed. Where was _Sentinel_? With their energy detectors, newly upgraded with the best techs money could buy courtesy of the funds auntie had provided, they should have detected this fog by now and sent their Operators to take care of this problem, but he sensed no presences other than his own in the area.

Even on the unexpected event that the detectors had somehow malfunctioned, they should still be able to sense that something was not right. Sentinel’s ranks were filled by experienced _numalis_ and skilled _Non-sequiturs_ , the fog’s innocent façade should have not fooled them. The Operators were no ordinary people.

Speaking about ordinary people, his mind went to Keisuke and almost automatically, without a thought, Batbayar extended his awareness to see where the other teen was. If a pulse of his energy was equivalent to active sonar, extending his awareness could be likened to a satellite. It searched, processed, indentified and verified a pattern of energy signatures that Batbayar knew.

Compared to his family, Keisuke’s energy signature was nondescript and unassuming; a small-lit candle in the middle of daylight, its tiny ray of fire could not compete with the might of the sun. He slipped in easily amongst the crowds, disappeared without being noticed. Almost like him. Just without purpose or ulterior motive behind it, he was simply that way.

This made him rather difficult to find, especially when his father was around. The older man’s presence was so full of life, rolling like waves that hit the base of the cliff where their small cottage stood, blending in almost perfectly with the background; Batbayar always had a hard time picking up the older man’s presence from the thrum of animarum that filled the ocean.

He searched through the city—, not bothering to check on his house, the other teen rarely there at this hour—, sweeping through the Districts, stopping briefly to check on Roselle before moving on.

Then, finally, he found the other teen’s energy signature in District 9, moving fast through the street, probably on his bike, doing one of his errands.

Tension he did not know he had coiling inside his stomach immediately loosened, Batbayar detected nothing that could be considered unusual from the other teen’s soul field. Keisuke was completely relaxed, oblivious to the approaching danger like so many other humans around him. Herd of cattle unknowingly waiting to be slaughter.

Like that stillborn flower, Keisuke was just a tiny soul striving to survive in this world. Unlike that flower though, he did not live for the moment. He lived for the future that spanned longer than a brief eternity of that flower.

Keisuke would never have that future if the fog reaches the city.

Batbayar bent down to pick up his cabbie hat from the ground, leaped down from the hill, and sprinted toward the direction of the forest. What would be a five-day drive with the fastest car in their maximum speed, five second if utilising the Warp Ring, took Batbayar no less than a blink to reach. If someone were there to see, he or she would witness him disappeared from the bottom of the hill and reappeared near the edge of the fog.

At the back of his head, his danger sense blaring shrilly as it never had before almost to the point of deafening. Unfortunately, it was too late to heed the warning. The moment he set his foot inside the fog, his world collapsed into singularity consisting of all-encompassing despair that weighed down and crushed him.

Batbayar gasped, tripped over his own feet and stumbled hard to the ground; face first, bones rattled from the impact, magnifying the sudden white-hot pain that wrecked his body from head to toe. Something was pulling inside, as though trying to yank his organs out, tugging insistently until it became increasingly more pronounced. Lungs burned, unable to breath. Throat hurt, itchy and dried. Pain lanced through every parts of his body, nothing escaped from the agony’s clutches.

He gritted his teeth, head cradled on his hands, fingers tangled on the strands, nails digging at the scalp, clutching at it like a lifeline, he barely heard himself thinking through the maelstrom wrecking havoc inside his head.

Fear and indescribable loneliness gripped his heart like cold, skeletal hands, making him wanted to curl up into a ball in the deepest, farthest corner possible, away from the world, away from everything.

Faintly, he heard someone screamed.

He did not want to be here, his mind, frantic, incoherent, engulfed in a sea of panic was pleading, begging, for someone to save him and set him free from this suffering.

Then, as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. He noticed distantly. Mind floating in a haze, the all-encompassing despair was gone, leaving his head numb, empty yet full and heavy at the same time, yet cleared enough to let him think and assessed his situation.

Eyes closed, his sense of hearing heard nothing but his heartbeats and breathing, his sense of smell was hit full blast by a pungent smell of decay, overpowering enough to make him nausea.

Then, there was his sense of touch…, which reminded him of his predicament:

The fog was surrounding him from all side, yet did nothing else. How strange. It was simply there, hovering, doing nothing. Almost acting like ordinary fog, if not for the fact that it was still making his skin crawl. He could not erase the feeling as though he was submerging on a swamp, or worst yet, swimming on an extremely polluted river brimming with mutated flesh-eating parasites. If the fog were a creature, Batbayar was practically on the creature’s stomach. He shuddered.

There was a light pressure against the crown of his head. It was warm, kind of reminded him of mother’s hand. It felt too real to be just a dream.

_Wake up_

Startled, Batbayar opened his eyes; dark brown eyes futilely scanned his surroundings for another presence other than himself. Nothing, no one, was there. Not even a ghost. Not that he could see if there was one. Swirling, insubstantial white walls surroundings him from all sides, obscuring everything, including the sight of his own hands. Nor he heard anything.

Yet, the touch felt so real.

Was he hallucinating…?

Shaking his head, Batbayar rose to his feet with some difficulty, and entered the wood. He would ponder on that mystery later; now, he had a self-imposed mission he needed to complete.

Relying on the mental map he had of the area, he cautiously manoeuvred his way around the trees, using the inherent sense of uneasy to judge the distance between him and the source of the fog, which increased with every step forth he took.

A twig snapped loudly under his boot, echoing ominously, penetrating the eerie, suffocating silence that had accompanied his journey until now. Cringing, he stopped on his track. The sound was far too similar to a bone breaking for his liking.

A sudden bout of curiosity compelled him to check on what was under his boot, but… it was just a twig, right?

Batbayar looked down and scowled at the smog obscuring his vision. With a mental command, he unlocked one of the seals that kept his volatile animarum in check. A small droplet of iridescent liquid, the imaginary representation of his animarum, dripped into his palm. He closed his hand into fist, and let it charged. Burning heat of fire started spreading beneath his skin, inside his veins and blood vessels. It felt comforting.

Then, he flicked his wrist, sending out a blast of concentrated energy to the empty space and the fog parted like a curtain, revealing the secret it held within its veils.

Immediately, he regretted his action.

Dark brown eyes widened at the sight. Batbayar’s breath hitched, instinctively taking several steps back.

Shrivelled carcasses of two Sentinel Operators— identified by the ornate, ruby lockets bearing the letter ‘S’ around their necks, which all Sentinel members wore as ID tags— were lying before his feet, almost unnoticed amongst dry leafs and twigs. They were late on their decomposition stage, their corpses almost unrecognisable.

One of the Operators had their arm broken. His boot mark imprinted deeply on their ashen grey skin.

Batbayar averted his eyes before the image could have a chance to be replaced by a familiar, haunting memory threatening to resurface.

‘Focused on something else,’

He tilted his head up and stared at the gaunt trees looming over him like giants from a fairy tale. He reached out to one, giving the rough bark a slightest touch, no harsher than a whisper, and it crumbled away like breadcrumbs beneath his fingertip.

As expected, silence greeted him, no thrum of life reacting to his presence. Everything in this forest was death. This place was nothing more than a graveyard.

Batbayar sighed, sidestepping the dead Operators and quickened his pace into a jog, then, into a full-fledge run. Determinedly ignoring the loud, crunching noises his foots made each times they hit the ground, focusing all his energy to run faster and faster until he reached a break-neck speed, which was still too slow for his taste.

The sound of moving water reached his ears; Batbayar promptly set loose another blast of energy to disperse the fog once again, disclosing a wide river up ahead. He stopped for a moment, finally giving in to his body’s demand for oxygen and breathed, filling his lungs with air it sorely needed, ignoring how the air, for the lack of better words, burned his lungs, then washed his face and quenched his dried throat before resuming his run.

He arrived at the base of a cliff. Between lack of vision, boulders and sharp, jagged rocks getting in the way and stray roots and vines finding a way to cling and ensnared his limbs, Batbayar was about ready to just throw his hands up, assumed his true form and climbed or flied over the cliff walls to save times he did not have.

However, no matter how dire the situation was, despite how unlikely it was for people other than him to venture this far out from the city, he could not risk the chance of someone seeing him in his true form. That one lecture he received following the incident with Keisuke was enough to last him a life time thank you very much.

The last thing he needed was being mistaken for baby Godzilla, again.

Oh, how he missed the bygone days when he was only the size of a housecat.

Twenty minutes later, he finally found the entrance to a cave tunnel beneath the cliff, which was big enough for his svelte stature to enter, though he was forced to crawl on his belly. Rough, jagged stones were moist and cold, he had lost count of how many times his head bumped against the walls and ceilings. Darkness made it hard to navigate and everything was quiet save for the sound of dripping water and his own short, uneven breath, trying not to inhale too deeply the stale, pungent air that permeated the cave.

Therefore, it came as an unexpected, yet pleasant, surprise when fresh air mingled with sweet scent of wild flowers hit his nostril, distracting him from uttering another expletive when his head collided against another jutting rock.

Taking a deep savouring breath, Batbayar relished in the feeling of fresh cool air entering his lungs, undoing the tight rope that held his chest like boa constrictor.

Later, Batbayar would blame it on stress for being stuck in a tight and enclosed place for far too long chipping away at his patience for the reason why, for only just a briefest moment, he had abandoned his self-imposed mission and impulsively went after that delightful scent like a puppy desperately following on the heel of its would-be-owner home.

Thankfully, the fresh air came from the same direction as his original destination.

There was a spacious cavern at the end of the passage. Crystal clusters covered the walls, floors and ceilings like glaciers, glimmering like a surface of calm, pristine lake on a clear summer day, reflecting shafts of light beaming from holes in the ceiling.

Contorting his body so he could slip through the small gap, Batbayar’s mind idly compared his situation to the one Sadako had to went through whenever the time came for the fictional ghost to deliver her curse. Crawling out of the TV, this must be how it felt like. By the time, his feet touched the ground-covered crystals, his bones and muscles were stiffed, and screaming something terrible when he stretched and rubbed them back to alignment.

Batbayar looked up, spying the clear blue skies from the largest hole in the ceiling, and then leaped at the walls, dirt-stained fingers making a deep gouge on the rock due to how hard he was gripping at it. Reaching for the nearest ledge and climbed up toward the exit, slithering out of the hole like a snake, dragging himself on the ground on his stomach, rolling on the dirt floor, getting up to his feet.

Taking a moment to brush off the dirt from his clothes, Batbayar then turned his gaze to the meadow.

For the second time that day, Batbayar’s breathe hitched, dark brown eyes widened at the sight.

Never in his life had he ever expected to see something so _beautiful_.

There in the meadow, stood a giant, brilliant cluster of amethyst crystal, glowing from internal light, brighter than the sun shining above, casting a glimmering violet-hue over the wildflowers around it.

A distinct note of a heartbeat came from the quartz. The alluring, rhythmic melodies erased away all his worries, bringing a sense of serenity to wash over him like spring cleansing rain.

Unbidden, sweet memory of peaceful and innocent times came flooding over to the forefront of his mind.

River of stars sprawled across the navy skies, warm of the campfire and a pair of equally warm, comforting arms encasing his tiny body, warding off the chill of cold, night air. Familiar voice, soft and soothing told tales from times long passed, lulling him to sleep.

On those nights, he knew neither pain, nor suffering.

He wanted to hear more.

Batbayar approached the semi-precious stone, taking a careful step so as not to crush the flowers beneath his feet. His danger sense was shouting at him to stay away from the amethyst, but he ignored it. It was too late. He was too far-gone in the Siren’s snare.

Stopping in front of the giant amethyst, dark brown eyes, alight with all the wonders of a new father seeing his first newborn child for the first time, inspected the kaleidoscope patterns dancing gracefully on the surface of the amethyst like a ballerina, following the sweet, melodious heartbeats.

Tentatively, Batbayar lifted a hand to touch the amethyst, but before his fingertip could touch the surface, the amethyst started to glow blindingly bright.

A zap struck his finger, pain travelled through his arm and a second later, he was staring at the sky, air gone from his lungs. Before his mind could comprehend what had happened, a painful, continuous jolt of electricity started coursing through his body, thousands tiny razor sharp blades burrowed into his skin, shredding through the thirteen seals that protected his core, sending an excruciating agony to envelop his very being.

Batbayar arched, gasping as the last seal to his core was broken. Animarum bleed out from the container like water spilling out from a broken dam, slipping through his fingers like a grain of sand.

An inhuman scream tore itself out from his throat.

With every second that passed, the pain intensified tenfold, and with it, the more he lost the animarum that grounded his existence to the material plane. Batbayar clenched his eyes shut, hands balled into fist, nails digging into his palms until it bleed, but he felt none of it, the pain in his core was greater than anything he had ever felt.

He wished Death would come for him soon.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, whatever force was devouring his life forces stopped and as quickly as it started, it was over.

Batbayar breathed heavily like a racehorse, cold sweats running down his forehead, making a chilling track down his nose and the side of his face before falling to the ground in huge droplets.

His chest ached; his body would not stop trembling, and his core… If it kept up a bit longer, he would be…

He forced his eyes open and glanced to his side just in time to see the amethyst cracked and shattered like glass, becoming nothing more than a glittering pixie dust blown by the wind.

Then, darkness—, or maybe, it was Death itself—, decided to spare him from his suffering and pulled him into her embrace.

TTT

The first thing he noticed when he returned to consciousness was a marching band parading inside his head. The colony of ants crawling beneath his skin was the second. With a weak groan, Batbayar rolled to his back, an attempt to take in a slow, shallow breath made his lungs rioted in protest.

Sighing, he willed his eyes open and stared dully at the overcast skies above. Heavy, sombre clouds ready to sheds its life-bringer tears at any moment. He could not see or sense anything outside of what his own two eyes and ears could perceive. It was a miracle he could still moved. Batbayar closed his eyes again; feeling drained, limbs heavy and aching, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

Thunder groaned in the distant, and he was reminded of the clothes left hanging on the hangers on the rooftop at home. He needed to pick them up before the sky started shedding its tears, which from the looked of it, was going to happen soon.

Opening his eyes, Batbayar turned his gaze around, expecting to see an endless sea of green but instead greeted by dry, brown ground full of cracks. His brows furrowed. What was he doing here anyway? This was not his favourite napping spot. How did he get here? He felt like had forgotten something, but what?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted a flash of purple, turning his head to look at it fully, he blinked, dark brown eyes stared uncomprehendingly, brain still too numb and sluggish to process the sight in front of him, but slowly, realisation dawned on him. Tentatively, almost warily, as though approaching a scared animal, his memory returned to him, the reason why he was here and what happened afterward…, which made the sight in front of him even more horrifying.

On the spot where the amethyst formerly stood, curled up in a foetal position, was a being that could pass for a human boy if not for the four pair of dragonfly wings on his back.

Wings, a lighter shade of violet than the amethyst, made up of pure energies, pulsing like heartbeats with pure animarum. More precisely, two pure animarum, one of them were _his_.

As though shying away from his scrutiny, the wings folded and disappeared into sparkling dust.

Breathing slowly, fingers dug into the dirt, jaws clenched tight, vainly trying to keep his emotions in check, a sick feeling that had nothing to do with his current condition churned his stomach. His solution to the problem at hand came to the forefront of his mind like a hard slap. If the situation did not go out of hands, he would be… that child… stop thinking about it.

Rising shakily to his feet, he approached the child with a wobbly step and kneeled down on one knee beside him, studying the child’s appearance, which was as different as the day to the night with his own.

Short white tresses matched perfectly with snow pale skin. A direct contrast to his jet-black hair and sun tanned skin. While Batbayar had tall and leaned built physic for his sixteen-year-old age, the child was a tiny thing, barely bigger than average five or six years old girl was which would be his first assumption if not for his state of undress.

His fair countenance did nothing to help his case either. Unlike him, who had an easily forgettable face, the child had a potential to break many hearts when he grew up. Even now, he had no doubt that this child’s parents—, if this child had any—, must have running out of plots to bury the paedophiles taking interest in their son. Especially with those sky blue eyes—

Batbayar jerked as if he was slapped. Why he think— no, why he was so _sure_ that the colour of the child’s eyes was sky blue? This made no sense. The child had not opened his eyes yet!

The first droplet of water fell against his nape interrupted his musing, lightning flashed above, followed soon after by a series of thunder, seemingly threatening to rip the sky asunder. Drizzles quickly and steadily became a downpour, Batbayar winced and shivered, cursing softly, and took off his jacket, exposing his bare arms to the cold rains’ merciless assault. He draped it over the boy’s bare body and picked him up, one arm under his knees while the other held him against his chest, and stood up, taken aback by how light his weight was.

Cursing once more when he remembered that he had left his Portable Terminal at home to charge, which meant no access to the Warp Ring, Batbayar looked around him for an alternative way out, there was no way he could carried the boy through that small pass—

He went very still. Train of thoughts pulled an emergency brake and screeched to a halt, not comprehending what his eyes were seeing.

This could not be happening.

He must have been still on that hill, sleeping, and this was all just a dream, a nightmare.

There was no way that this was real.

Yet, the small warm body he was holding, a direct contrast to the cold rain cutting his skin like glass shards, told him that these were real, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

The serene and beautiful meadow had changed to nothing but barren wasteland. There was no life here. This place was deader than death.

Batbayar looked down at the tiny being in his arms. Rains pelted against his delicate, innocent visage, bouncing off the tip of his small nose and down his cheeks like tears as overhead, the sky roared furiously.

Closing his eyes, Batbayar took a long deep breath and then exhaled. Once he had calmed down enough, he opened his eyes again and, pointedly ignoring the massive gash across the land, focused his attention to find another exit but found none.

Well, there was no helping it then, time to do something stupid. He hoped he still had enough animarum left for fuel… and hoped that he and the child would still have all their limbs intact afterward. Idly, he wondered how his core looked like right now.

Adjusting his grip on the child, Batbayar reached through the mangle seals and opened the door to his core—

— A sudden unbearable pain had him doubling over, threatening to bring him down to his knees almost dropping the child in the process.

Batbayar gritted his teeth; taking in a deep breath and shakily, traced a glyph for ‘teleport’ in his kin’s ancient letters on the muddy ground with the toe of his boot. Channelling what was left of his animarum to it, making the glyph glowed fiery red, hissing defiantly against the continuing barrages of cold water falling from the sky.

Bringing the image of Libiros City’s massive ornate steel gates to the forefront of his mind, Batbayar lifted his foot and, with all the strength left of him, stomped on the glyph.

In a brilliant flash of light, they were gone, leaving only a charred ground as a dubious proof that they were there.


	2. Pity and Regret

1.

Batbayar was thankful for the rain, even though it brought nothing but a stinging pain cutting through his skin.

The citizens of Libiros seemed to have a share aversion toward humidity. When the rain comes, they hurry to their respective abodes as if the rain itself brings an unspeakable evil to their city. Which, given the disaster that almost transpired, Batbayar would have laughed if he were not trying his hardest not to collapse onto the pavement. Therefore, by the time he arrived at the old gate, a ghost town greeted his return, no shops were open and the roads were bare from any transportation or pedestrian.

He hated repeating himself, but Batbayar was thankful for the rain. Running through the crowded streets while carrying a naked stranger would raises questions that he could not answer.

He was certain though, that the citizens would not question what he was doing. The citizens of this city liked to keep to themselves most of the time, apathetic to what everyone else was doing unless your professions happened to be doctors, cops or fire fighters.

This was the main reason why auntie chose to live here, there were no noisy neighbours gossiping and making up nonsense theories to satisfy their curiosities around here.

Still, curiosity was an ingrained trait in humans. It was only a matter of time before they succumbed to their instincts. He just hoped that he could make a good excuse for the child’s presence before that happened.

He snagged his foot on a hole, hidden by murky, ankle-deep water that flooded the streets and almost tripped, barely managed to catch his balance in time, and dropped his load, forcing him to stop in his track.

Batbayar gathered his breathing. Rains grew heavier with every passing second spent standing in the middle of the street, pelting him mercilessly, soaking him to the bones, shoulders slouched, head bowed, dark bangs, heavy with water, obscuring his visage, hiding it from the world... too silent world.

No murmur of conversations or laughter coming through the confined of the brick walls around him. No sounds other than his ragged breathing, continuous pounding of rains, and thunder’s roar of fury as it once again failed to catch the ever fast and elusive lighting, always ten steps ahead on their eternal game of tag, never once managed to grasp those brilliant flashes.

…. Was he too late?

He clenched his jaws tight, accidently biting the inside of his cheek, tasting copper on his tongue, and set off again, boots slapping against the flooded street, sloshing water in his wake, trying hard not to think about where everyone had gone to. Climbing up steeped, twisting paths, passing and weaving through the stores and residential areas, Batbayar gritted his teeth. Why was this road seemed had no end? This was not the first time he had walked on this path, he did not remember it being these long before.

Finally, after what felt like a long, excruciating eternity, salvation came in the form of hazy glow of familiar mercury lamps—, uniquely shaped like birch trees, each holding nine orbs of light in its bare, iron branches—, lining up the streets like soldiers at attention, marking the pathway to his house.

Another roar of thunder drowned a relieve sigh that escaped his parted lips, Batbayar took a turn to the left and entered an alley between two stores, so small and narrow only one person at a time could pass through it, so, with the load in his arms, he was forced to walk through it in a crab-like manner.

He emerged into a small, lovely garden, housing an entrance to a lone, humble-looking café. _Pasopati_ , this was the name of the shop, written on the menu board in front of the double door in elegance, connecting cursives.

Nudging the front door open with the toe of his boot, causing the bell above the door to chime softly, announcing his presence to the empty café, making his way up the stairs, walking through rows of unoccupied tables, disappearing behind the counter. The wooden floorboard creaked noisily under his weight, water and muddy footprints trailed on his wake, following him through the TV room and to the small hallway with three doors, two on the left one on the right.

He entered his bedroom—, the second door on the left—, and gently laid the child down on his four-poster bed before rummaging through his mahogany closet, pulling out a towel, a blanket, and a pair of kid-size pyjamas. Probably belonging to one of Keisuke’s younger twin brothers, how the clothes ended up in his closet, he was not sure, but he was grateful nonetheless.

Tossing the blanket and pyjamas on the foot of the bed, Batbayar proceeded to dry the child’s body with the towel before helping him into the pyjamas, and then tucked him in under the blanket. Once he was sure that the child was comfortable, he allowed himself to relax. The rushed of adrenalines that had supported him all the way through had faded. Gradually, the pain he had managed to ignore proceeded to make itself known and laid siege on his body, every fibres of his being were screaming at him like witches pleading for salvation from the flame of their executions.

Still, he forced himself to move for a little bit longer. Trembling from cold as much from the pain, Batbayar ran a shaky hand through his damp hair and went back to the closet, pulling out a pair of black sweat pants, white short-sleeve shirt and another towel. Managing to steady his hands enough to change his wet clothes with the dry ones, he dried his hair and face with a towel before tossing it haphazardly to the floor to join along with his dirty wet clothes, and crawled onto the bed, laying face down next to his mysterious guest.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he knew no more.

TTT

Pitter-patter of raindrops pounding against the pavement, creating a melancholic BGM that accompanied his footsteps through the empty street. The air was freezing, cold seeping through the thick fabric of his coat and bit at his skin, but he paid it no mind.

Ben Morgan stopped at the curb. Cold, sapphire eyes peered out from underneath black fedora hat, gazing at the coffee shop across the street. The seven letters written on the window proclaimed the café’s name as _Lorelei_. The old yet, well kept building was emitting a warm, welcoming feeling, chasing away the sorrow that the constant raining this city was famous for was giving.

Within the shop, a portly old man with thick beard was sitting behind the counter. Gray hair swept back, complexion pale from years of not seeing the sun, one looked at his face and you could tell right away that he was a kind-hearted fellow. It was difficult to tell where the laughter lines started and where the aging lines ended. Bushy brows furrowed, drawing prominent attention to the folds on his forehead, eyes intent on the book he was reading, unaware of his watcher.

It would be so easy to plant a bullet in his head; the old man would feel nothing.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Ben crossed the street and entered the coffee shop, disturbing the doorbell hanging above the entrance, alerting the old man of his presence.

Konrad Meyer looked up to the door and greeted with ‘’welcome to Lorelei!’’ in a tone that was far too cheerful for the sombre weather outside, accompanied by an equally far, too cheerful smile on his aging visage, which quickly replaced by a look of pure shock. Beady, gray eyes stared wide, unblinkingly, mouth opening and closing repeatedly, trying to say something but no words coming out; only ending up making him looked like a bearded goldfish.

‘’Stop staring.’’ Ben commanded, snapping the old man out of his stupor.

Konrad shook his head before staring at him hard and studiously, still not certain if the sight in front of him was real or just a dream. Patiently, Ben waited, standing as still as statue under the old man’s scrutiny until he finally reached a conclusion and his mouth curved upward into a genuine smile, warm and welcoming like home, very different from the polite and courteous yet no less warm smile he reserved for his customers.

Getting up from the chair, Konrad walked around the counter and moved toward him, crossing the black and white chequered floor in a few, long impatient strides and pulled him into a crushing hug that nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs and made his ribcages screamed in protest.

‘’I miss you so much.’’ Konrad’s face pressed against his shoulder, Ben’s coat muffling his deep voice, and absently tightening his grip. Ben hid his grimace with practice easy under expressionless mask, for someone who had passed his prime; the old man possessed the strength of someone half his age.

Still, slowly wrapping his arms around the shorter man, he returned the hug heartily, stooping down slightly to make their heights slightly more even. ‘’The feeling is mutual.’’ Ben replied tonelessly to Konrad’s shoulder, patting the old man on his back before pulling away from the hug, liberating his ribs from the unintentional abuse.

Suppressing what sounded suspiciously like a sob, Konrad turned on his heel and went back behind the counter. A moment later, a distinct cacophony that made up the activity of a coffee shop reached his ears. The stove clicked on, water poured into a kettle, the rattled of porcelain being set out, and a mix between whirring and crushing of coffee beans being grinded brought comfort to Ben’s weary mind.

Smiling inwardly, Ben took off his coat and fedora hat and hanged them on the tree rack beside the door, followed by the black scarf hiding the lower part of his face, revealing a fine-boned, angular jaw line with generous mouth, cold sapphire eyes and a shaggy mane of blond hair. Pale, handsome face was set in a calm expression, bordering on cold. His presence emitted a sense of intimidation in others however, if he chose to be, he could be no more visible than a ghost could.

Flipping the store sign on the window to ‘closed’, Ben trotted over toward the table neared the back of the shop, stopping briefly at the counter to snatch a plate of madeleine from the cake stand, and took a seat, back to the wall. Satisfied to have a good view of the front door and the room as a whole, Ben bit down on the shell-shaped pastry and glanced up; gaze fell on the grandfather’s clock lodged between two tall bookshelves on the east wall opposite from him, noting the time to be 13:30 PM, only half-hours left before the school was finished.

Times passed by so quickly. Ben could hardly believe it. He was fifteen this year. It felt like yesterday he held the crying bundle of his brother in his arms. He could not wait to see Yue again.

How much had changed in his absence? Will his little brother give him a hearty hug or a fist to the face?

Did Yue even remember him?

He would not delude himself, siblings they might be, but for the better part of Yue’s life, Ben had never truly been there for him. He would not blame Yue for not missing him. He deserved it.

A part of him regretted not keeping a tab on his brother; however, _they_ had their eyes everywhere and no matter how good he was at covering his tracks, _they_ always knew where to look, which did not make his crusade against them for these past five years any easier.

With him constantly looking over his shoulder, Ben could not risk alerting _them_ of Yue’s whereabouts and put his little brother in jeopardy.

If something ever happened to him, Ben would never forgive himself.

Breathing in the scent of old books and coffee, he folded his arms on the wooden table and rested his head on it. Shoulders shagging, he closed his eyes, revelling in the rare peace and security that the familiar surrounding exuded, savouring the safety like a kiss of a lover. No one could predict when he would have another moment of respite like this. Completely, willingly lowering his guard down was a rare thing for him to do since all his life, and became much rarer since five years ago.

Distinctive soft clack next to his head pulled Ben out of his peaceful reverie. Unique scent of coffee blend wafted into his nostril had him fought down a smile that threatened to crack his frigid mask.

The old man still remembered his favourite.

The legs of the wooden chair screeched, scraping against the marble floor, followed by the sound of a thump of a heavy bottom meeting a chair. Ben opened his eyes and raised his head, with a murmur of thank you; he picked up the white mug from the table and brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply the peculiar scent of the warm brew before taking a tentative sip, savouring the unique blend of flavour of granulated sugar and butter. Warm feeling went down his throat and spreading through his entire body, bringing peace to his mind, for a moment, the five years of strive seemed to happen to someone else, just a grand but fictional story he was reading on a book.

‘’You put gingers in the coffee.’’ Ben noted.

‘’This city is in love with ginger.’’ Konrad laughed as though there was some kind of hidden joke in the statement, which probably was.

‘’Considering the weather, I am not surprise.’’ Ben remarked. Monsoon City, as the uncreative name implied, was never stopped raining. Drizzles and downpours with a storm coming once in a year were the only two weather patterns this city ever had. The rain forest had more dried season compared to this city. The temperature was always cold here, and considering that the local rulers prohibited any kind of alcoholic beverages for plenty and various reasons, it was no surprise that the citizens were very fond of gingers.

‘’So, where have you been? ’’ Konrad inquired. ‘’It has been five years, not a single word of your whereabouts, for a moment, I thought you were dead.’’

‘’You insulted me for thinking I could die so easily.’’ Ben retorted dryly.

‘’Ah, I see, you have not change much.’’ He chuckled. ‘’So, are you going to tell me what you have been up to during those period?’’

‘’No’’

‘’Oh, come on~’’ Konrad whined liked a child denied sweets. ‘’You need not to hide your little jaunt from me.’’

Sipping his coffee, Ben kept silent and staring straight ahead over Konrad’s shoulder, wishing for the time to run faster and for Yue to hurry home and distracted the old man from his questions. Oh, how he missed his brother so much right now.

Konrad pouted, giving him a wounded puppy look. ‘’Come now, it has been so long since we last seen each other, I just want to make a conversation with my favourite grandson-in-law.’’

‘’I am your only grandson-in-law.’’ Ben pointed out; then he paused and re-evaluated that statement. Had he missed something about Evelyn’s life before they met? ‘’Evelyn had another husband before me?’’

‘’No, I am not talking about Evelyn. You were the first and only man she had ever courted in her life.’’ He gave a short laugh before a faraway look entered his gray eyes. ‘’Andreas, my youngest son, he runaway 20 years ago and, just like you, disappeared from my radar. If he does not do something stupid to chase away all his potential suitors, I probably have one or two grandkids somewhere out there.’’

‘’What made you so sure that he is still alive?’’

Konrad waved his hand. ‘’That boy is as stubborn as a rock; he will not die so easily— well, at least, not until he had at least one child to inherit his stubbornness.’’

‘’I am under the impression that the stubborn ones are always the first one to die.’’

Konrad spread his arms out, grandly gesturing to him. ‘’And yet, here you are drinking coffee with me.’’ He remarked.

‘’I am alive because I am cautious.’’ Ben retorted. Then, he tilted his head to the side. ‘’I never heard about this Andreas before. What kind of person is he?’’

‘’Well, you can say that he is the black sheep in the family…’’ Konrad trailed off, lips thinning and curving downward, eyes narrowed, leaning on his elbows, bending over the table, turning on an intense gaze upon him.

‘’You try changing the subject are you not?’’ Konrad accused. ‘’Well, that is not going to happen young man. Now, tell me about what you have been doing that made you have no time to call this old man even just once?’’ Konrad demanded, straightening his back, folding his arms across his chest and puffing up his chest in an attempt to look more imposing.

If Konrad was anyone else, Ben would continue to hold his silence, but he was fully cognizant to the fact that the old man was the source of his wife’s stubborn gene. Arguing with Evelyn was futile. You lost before you even began.

Arguing with the old man would leave you with the same result.

Therefore, Ben just mentally rolled his eyes and resigned himself to his fate. ‘’Fine, what do you want to know?’’ He did not grumble but it was a near thing.

The old man's grin was blinding.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Ben recounting his ‘jaunts’ as Konrad had dubbed it, though he left out unpleasant details, having no intention of making the old man losing his appetite. On his end, Konrad listened attentively, like a student absorbing a lecture from his professor... and sometime burst out laughing over the parts Ben did not found funny in the slightest.

He suddenly felt very concern for Yue’s mental well-being.

‘’ _You did what?_ ’’ Konrad exclaimed suddenly, cutting him in the middle of his narration.

‘’I am not going to repeat myself old man.’’ His mug was empty; he held it out to Konrad, silently asking for a refill.

Konrad shook his head, rose to his feet, and went to grab the pot from the stove from behind the counter and brought it to the table, pouring the hot coffee into Ben’s empty mug with gentleness that belied the fierce scowl scrawled on his wrinkly visage. ‘’I cannot believe you blew up that tower.’’

‘’It was just rubbles and rusted metal.’’ Ben stated matter-of-factly.

‘’That rubble and rusted metal was a _historical monument_.’’ Konrad grumbled.

‘’It had been more than twenty centuries since that clock was running, I doubt peoples still remember the reason why that monument stood for.’’

‘’Well, I _do_ remember. My third wife and I were there during its naming ceremony.'' He muttered forlornly. ''I wasted a day of my insignificant life listening to that boring speech.'' A distance look entered his face. ‘’And even though it held no meaning for the young generations today, it hold meaning for people like me. That building was physical prove that once upon a time, we have more than just our individuality that separated us from each other.’’

‘’Yeah, well, there is no use crying over a spilled milk.’’ Ben's casual dismissal invited a scowl on his direction and he ignored it in favour of checking the clock once again, it was 14.39 now. Ben frowned minutely. The school had ended by now, so why Yue had not came home yet?

Probably attending an after school club or hanging out with friends, Ben reasoned, trying to quell down the sudden rise of anxiety growing inside his stomach. He was probably worrying over nothing.

‘’Are you expecting someone?’’ Konrad inquired. ‘’I notice you keep glancing at the clock.’’

Alarm blared at the back of his mind, warning him that something was wrong. Ben ignored it in favour of giving the old man a look that plainly stated that he was going senile and as casually as he could, inquired. ‘’Where is the brat? The school is over half an hour ago, he should be home from school by now.’’

Konrad’s expression suddenly turned as sombre as the sky outside. Ben felt his internal organs melted and pooled in his stomach.

‘’Konrad,’’ Ben started. ‘’Where is my brother?’’ He demanded quietly, but the old man gave no answer.

Eyes hardened, Ben stood to leave, intent on searching for his wayward brother, but a firm hand on his elbow stopped him.

Ben stared at the hand holding him in vice-like grip, feeling it tremble, before turning his gaze to its owner, meeting his gray eyes with his blues. They stared at each other for a while before the old man looked away and closed his eyes.

‘’Yue, he—’’ Konrad swallowed thickly.

‘’— He passed away two years ago.’’

TTT

Morning light breaching through the blinds, still failing to chase away the darkness in the room, which clinging to every surfaces and corners it could reach, from the desk, to the closet and chair in the corners and the very walls itself.

Still, with the head of the bed situated close to the sole window, the sunlight had no trouble in draping itself over Batbayar’s visage, piercing through his closed eyelids, nudging him out of dreamless sleep. Brows furrowed reflexively, Batbayar rolled away from the light, curling up on his side, burying his face on a bolster, scooping and wrapping his arms around it, tightening his hold, bringing it closer to his chest to cuddle.

Something was wrong. The feeling niggled at the back of his half-sleep mind, but he could not pinpoint the feeling or gave it a name. Mind spinning in a jumble of messy loop, an endless path full of sharp jagged rocks, keeping him from being fully lucid.

That lucid part of him knew that he needed to wake up though, and was trying its hardest to climb itself out of the metaphorical sandpit, until finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he managed to pull his consciousness out of the sleep’s tight grip.

His head was an anvil, heavy; gravity forced his head glued to the downy pillow, but he felt no respite. It was the opposite; he was sluggish and tired as though he had just done a marathon instead of just waking up from sleep.

Taking a deep breath, a peculiar scent hit his nostril. Batbayar frowned; he always washed his blanket and sheet with lavender-scented softener. It made no sense for it to smell like a meadow in the aftermath of a rain.

In addition, he vaguely remembered that his bolster had gone missing for a month no-thanks to a certain brown-haired, green-eye teen. He also remembered that his bolster was just a bolster. Last time he checked, it possessed no life sign; it did not breathe and had no heartbeats.

What on Erde, was he hugging?

Batbayar cracked one eye open, a sight of glowing blob of white and silver greeted him. Blinking, Batbayar wiped the sleep out of his eyes and looked again, this time; the glowing blob reformed into silvery head of a child, tucked under Batbayar’s chin, between shoulder and collarbone, one arm draped over his back, while the other trapped between their bodies and a tangle mess of blanket. His porcelain complexion reflected the soft ray of the morning sun peeking through the window, making him seemingly glowed like the moon, gentle and hauntingly ethereal.

Questions came to the forefront of his confused mind:

Who was this child?

Where did he come from?

Then, something in his memory stirred and, unbidden, yesterday event came flooding in waves, washing the questions away, sobering him up like a mug of bitter coffee.

Weird killer fog, this child was the source.

His animarum were sucked out like dust bunnies under a mercy of vacuum cleaner.

Going home and passing out on the bed, and before that, travelling through the rains, trudging through an empty, flooded streets and silent town.

Where did everyone go…?

That last question almost sending him flying out of bed. Instinctively, desperately, he sent out a pulse of his en—

—A white surge of pure, blinding agony flooded his body, Batbayar violently roar, gasping and doubling over, collapsing on the bed, curling up on his side, face as twisted as the bed sheet wrinkled beneath his shaking fist. He did not know how long he lay in this position, but sweats had started to soak his body, making his shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin.

Batbayar opened his eyes and looked down at his chest, pressing a trembling hand between his ribcages, where his _mustika_ , the physical representation of his core, was safely confined.

Inhaling deeply, Batbayar ignored the pain as best as he could and turned his attention inward, breathing slowed to the point of almost nonexistence; awareness fell away one by one, sinking deeper into meditation, leaving his material body in a coma-like state. Relieved that it gave him respite from the pain no matter how brief, he dived into his soul and went straight to where his core was located.

The conceptual space, or soul space, that his mind conjured took the form of endless white void, which quickly filled by an equally endless shelves by a command of his thoughts, occupied by unaccountable amount of discs containing the record of his memories and experiences, things that made him who he was.

Idly rummaging through some of his memories, Batbayar randomly tapped one of the discs, which jumped to the air and transformed into a holographic screen, showing his child self enthusiastically playing alone on a tundra, imagination his only companion, fighting against an ‘’enemy’’ together with his ‘’sworn brother’’. On those days, everything was simple — good and simple.

The presence was not so bad though. He mused, looking at the memory where he and Keisuke racing through the streets of Libiros, the latter was breathlessly laughing like five year olds on his birthday after receiving the present he always wanted, when in truth he had just lost the race.

The next memory was from three days ago. The moving images showed auntie entrusting the house care upon him before departing to Odin City, and his short, curt conversation with the Walking Ice Block auntie called a friend two hours later. It seemed, the icy blond man was going somewhere too and wanted to bide auntie a goodbye before leaving.

… Ah, this reminded him; he needed to inform auntie about what happened yesterday.

He was not looking forward to that conversation.

Somewhere in the white void, came a rumble, signifying that his mind had made up the decision to tell her no matter how reluctant his heart was about it.

Then, he decided to check on his memory of the meadow, more specifically, when he was… not himself. One of the good things about this soul space was that, it recorded memories he experienced even when he was not fully conscious of what he was doing, though, it took a while to find and was not as complete as the memories recorded when he was aware.

As expected, it was dull, blurry, and disjointed like a television with bad reception, nevertheless, it was better than nothing was.

His past-self in the memory approached the mesmerising crystal in a zombie-like manner, Batbayar was pleased to note that, even in this state, he still cared about the fragile life under his feet, and reached out to touch the amethyst, and then, the screen turned to static.

Batbayar frowned, and then sighed, mutely disappointed, before returning his attention to the real reason why he was here. He dismissed the shelves, leaving him standing alone in the white void once again, but not for long.

With another command from his thought, he summoned the representation of his core in this soul space, expecting to see Golden Sun, planet Mars greeted him instead. The crimson sphere hovered above him, suspended in mid-air, floating on the white void, slowly rotating clockwise like hanging toy on a baby's crib.

Batbayar stared at his core in morbid fascination, then lowered his head and closed his eyes, letting out a dry, humourless chuckle that would have echoed loudly if this place were following the law of physic.

Everything was a bloody mess. The porcelain-like surface, once smooth, was now ruptured; large cracks marred the tough, outer shell, exposing the tender interior covered with laceration, deep and jagged. Some sections were carved off or missing, making it looked like half-eaten apple that had long since been left to rot, all it needed to make it looked like a real deal were maggots infesting it. Animarum leaked out from the wound and trickled down to the floor of his soul space, forming a pool of messy, iridescent gore.

He could not believe he was still alive. He was so close to death, so very much close to it he was practically embracing it. He was _very_ lucky that the only thing he received from the aftermath of yesterday ordeal was _just_ pain.

Batbayar opened his eyes to the view of his ceiling, and turned to look at the pale child by his side. Unbidden, pity welled up inside him. The praise of ‘beauty but deadly’ had never been truer, the pale child was like lily of the valley, beautiful, innocent, and poisonous.

Life must be tough for him.

Returning his gaze to the ceiling, Batbayar stared at it for a moment before closing his eyes and took a long deep breath. Slowly, he sat up, somehow managing to make it out of bed without planting his face on the floor, and dragged himself to the door, one-step at a time, until the nerve-breaking pain became a background noise at the back of his head, only to be rudely reminded when his foot bumped against something on the way out the door. He cursed.

Looking down, the dark-haired teen frowned, perplexed, at his boots, dirty clothes and towels scattered over his room carpeted floor. Where did this come from?

Then, he looked over his opened door to the hallway, at the dried, muddy footprints on the wooden floor and remembered.

Sighing, Batbayar gathered up all his dirty clothes on his arms, brought it out to the hallway, toward the kitchen and to the staircase leading up to the third floor, where the laundry room was, and then, everything went dark.

TTT

‘’Your joke is not funny.’’ Ben told the old man flatly.

Konrad pressed his lips into thin line and shook his head. ‘’No Ben, I am not joking.’’

‘’ _You stay here with grandfather, he will take care of you in my absence, be a good boy okay?_ ’’

‘’No’’

‘’Ben—‘’

He bolted out of the door into the rainy street, drizzle had turned into downpour and in a matter of second; he was soaked. Nevertheless, Ben kept on walking, not caring where his feet were taking him. Unbidden, the past memories replayed themselves, vividly, repeatedly like a broken record.

_Patting his brother on the head, Ben stood up, about to leave, but small hands grabbed hold of his pants made him stopped. He looked down._

_‘’Let go.’’_

_His cold tone could rival the arctic breeze and could easily sent the bravest men to cower in fear, shattering them into a nervous, blabbering wreck, but the six-year-old did not even flinch. All he did was tightening his holds as if his life depended on it._

‘’Flowers Sir’’

Ben turned toward the voice and found himself face to face with a young beauty. The woman was tall and slim, skin pale as snow, hard, almond-shaped jade eyes set into a fined-bone face with full red lips and rosy cheeks framed with fiery curls. In her hands was a bouquet of white lilies, which she holding it out to him as though it was some kind of sacred sword or offering.

Their eyes met. Cold sapphires locked with steel jades.

‘’I have no need for it.’’ His voice was drowned by pounding rains and booming thunders, but the woman seemed had no problem hearing him.

‘’It is not for you, it is for the one you are going to visit. Is it not a common tradition for humans to bring flowers when visiting the deaths?’’ She inquired monotone-ly, making her question resembled more of a statement.

Blinking in confusion, Ben turned his gaze to his left and stared at the tall, black iron gates looming over him like a judge. Ah, so his feet had taken him to the cemetery. How lovely.

‘’You are correct Lady.’’ Ben agreed, not taking his eyes from the cemetery gates, he took the bouquet from her hands. ‘’How much is it cost?’’

‘’I have no need for your money.’’

Ben turned to her. ‘’That would not—‘’

She was gone.

‘’—do.’’ Ben looked down at the bouquet in his hands. After a moment of contemplation, he stepped forward and pushed the gates open.

_‘Please, do not make this any harder.’ He turned away and shook off his leg, releasing his brother’s holds with no effort and quickly making his way toward the door, stopping briefly once he reached the threshold, peering over his shoulder, taking one last, long look of his brother’s countenance, storing every details of it to his memories._

_‘’Yue,’’_

He stood in front of the cold, gray stone with expression as stoic as a marble statue. Deep inside however, his emotion was like a raging maelstrom. If not for years of practice in suppressing his feelings, he would have breakdown right now.

He still could not believe it. Even after he came here and seen it for himself.

He did not want to believe.

His baby brother, his happiness, the last reason of his existence... was gone.

It was not supposed to be this way. This city, Yue was supposed to be safe here.

Thunders boomed continuously above, drowning all sounds around him, Ben did not react when a warm, heavy weight settled over his shoulders.

‘’Tell me what happen.’’ Ben demanded quietly, tugging the coat the old man had draped on him closer to his cold, shivering body.

‘’Influenza,’’ Konrad started, swallowing thickly, his next words emerged almost in a rush, as if it physically pained him to tell this tale and he desperately wanted it to be over quickly. ‘’We thoughts it was just a common cold, but it did not get better only got worse. By the time I realised something was wrong, it was already too late.’’

‘’He passed away in his sleep.’’

His breath hitched. ‘’— that time, I do not know where you were, or even if you were still alive for that matter, so I… I am sorry Ben, I am so sorry…’’ The old man broke down, collapsing on his knees in front of the tombstone; teardrops mixed with the cold rains fell silently to the green grass.

Ben envied the other’s ability to cry. Grief gnawed at him like a beast, pain and regret trickled down on him like acid, but no tears fell down from his eyes. It had run dried a long time ago; he had nothing to spare for his little brother. He had nothing to lessen the throbbing ache in his chest.

Ben kneeled down in one knee and read the inscription carved below his brother’s name. Lips twisted into a faint bittersweet smile, he reached out tentatively to touch the tombstone, running his fingers inside the carvings that formed his brother’s name.

Why did he have to say such a sappy, meaningless words back then?

_The boy looked up, sky blue eyes gleaming with hope as much as unshed tears._

_‘’The sky always changing yet it is still the same sky, and there is only one sky. If you miss me, all you need to do is look up and I will do the same.’’_

‘’I am sorry.’’ Thunder drowned his whispered. ‘’I should never have leave you.’’

Rising to his feet, Ben grabbed Konrad’s arm and hauled him up to his feet, half-dragging him out of the cemetery.

‘’Let us go home Konrad.’’

Yue Morgan

January 28, 9999 – December 12, 0012

Rest in Peace

Beneath the sky that unite us.

I will wait for you.

_Like a breeze snuffing out the light of a candle, the fragile hope in his eyes extinguished. Small lips trembled, a single drop of tear fell from his eyes, slowly running down the curve of the boy’s chubby cheeks, which soon followed by another. ‘’Big Brother,’’ He whimpered. ‘’Please do not go!’’ He wailed._

_‘’Goodbye Yue’’_

_‘’Brother—‘’_

_Ben slammed the door shut behind him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Profile:
> 
> Name: Batbayar  
> Gender: Male  
> Age: 16  
> Birthday: April 2, 9998  
> Height: 167 cm  
> Weight: 68 kg  
> Eye: Dark brown (human form)  
> Carnelian red with black sclera (‘true’ form)  
> Hair: Black  
> Blood Type: AB  
> Likes: Oranges, meats, sleeping  
> Dislikes: Coffees, pork products, spicy foods, cold foods, rainy and cold days


	3. Waking up, Worried Elders and Revelations

2.

Drizzles pattered against the pavements, making a sound akin to trees being ruffled by the wind. For the residents of Monsoon City, this weather was as close as they could get to a sunny day for a chance to go outside for a walk.

Pair of lovers passing over Lorelei’s front window under an umbrella, walking close to each other practically joined at the hips, happy content smiles brightly lit up their faces, so absorbed in each other’s presences they almost collided with a little girl clad in yellow raincoat, zooming through the street from the direction they were heading. Expertly manoeuvring passed the couples, her bell-like laugh was loud enough to be heard over the rain, jumping over the poodles of water she came by but never strayed far from her mother who followed just behind, telling her daughter to be careful.

Inside the coffee shop, two young office workers were sitting at the counter, chatting with each other while enjoying their cups of coffees and sandwiches and the old man’s brand of grandfatherly hospitality, taking respite from their works.

Neither of them paid attention to the blond-haired man sitting in the corner of the room.

That was interesting.

Slouching over a table, cheek propped up on one arm; a half-empty cup of coffee and a plate of madeleine sitting alongside his elbow, sapphire blue eyes, half-lidded, glued to the glowing screen of his laptop, giving a perfect impression of a person lost in their own world.

Meanwhile, his ears were tentatively trained on the conversation between Konrad’s two customers.

Their topic of conversation revolved around a serial disappearance that had been plaguing this city for over two months now. According to the reports he hacked from Monsoon Police Department; the victims were all males, ages ranged from late twenties to early thirties, coming from various backgrounds and different social statuses. There were no relations between the victims, they were not even natives to this city neither were they came from the same place. One of them hailed from a different continent altogether, more precisely, he hailed from Dunkelheit far in the Dark Continent.

Why they choose to travel to Monsoon City was another mystery. Considering the weather, this place was not on the list of under-the-radar vacation spots.

However, they all did share one thing in respect:

These men were childless widowers who had lost their wives to accidents or illnesses and had devotedly held to that status.

Konrad coughed, clearing his throat loudly. Ben glanced up from his laptop screen, meeting the old man’s piercing, disapproving gaze. Understanding his meaning, the taller younger man returned his gaze to the laptop and continued with his research, deliberately ignoring the old man’s warning. Konrad’s exasperated huff went without unnoticed by his two customers.

‘’What is wrong Owner? You seem upset.’’ One of the office workers, a gangly man wearing thick nerdy glasses, remarked.

‘’Nothing is wrong,’’ Konrad denied. ‘’Just remembering something annoying that is all.’’

‘’Ah,’’ Nerdy Glasses hummed and adjusted his glasses, accepting the excuse easily.

‘’Hey, look at this post on _Hat-Chat_.’’ His companion interjected, a chubby man with freckles on his cheeks, beady eyes never strayed from the screen of the phone in his hand. ‘’An anon claimed that they had seen the culprit.’’

‘’Really, did they describe how the culprit looks like?’’ Nerdy Glasses curiously peered over his friend shoulder to look at the phone.

‘’Yes, they said that the culprit is a very beautiful woman.’’

‘’What, no way, that is not possible!’’ Nerdy Glasses argued, adjusting his glasses again. ‘’You see how one of the victims looks like, right? He makes _you_ look like a matchstick in comparison. Are you sure that info is accurate? It could be a work of a troll.’’

‘’Info on _Hat-Chat_ are always accurate.’’ Freckled Cheeks defended. ‘’She might have accomplices to help her doing the heavy lifting.’’ He argued, causing his companion to frown thoughtfully.

‘’… Hmm, so the woman lures the victims into a trap where her accomplices can subdue them and take them to somewhere.’’ Nerdy Glasses theorised. ‘’Hey Owner, do you think this might be the work of a human trafficking syndicate?’’ Nerdy Glasses turned his gaze to Konrad, who just shrugged nonchalantly and gave the two men his most disarming smile.

‘’I know nothing about that.’’ If there were an award for the most blatant lies, Konrad would be the winner. ‘’What I know is that you need to be careful on your way out.’’ The two men followed where Konrad’s finger was pointing at with their eyes and looked at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room and promptly let out a twin gasp. They frantically scrambling out of their stools, tripping over their feet to reach the door, fumbling open the knob, slamming it shut with a resounding bang on their way out.

‘’They forgot to pay.’’ Ben remarked, not looking up from his laptop.

‘’They will come back.’’ Konrad replied and picked up the two cups and plates the two men left behind and brought it to the kitchen in the backroom to be washed. When he returned with towel in hand, Ben went straight to the point: ‘’Tell me what the culprit is.’’

‘’I do not know what you are talking about.’’ Konrad feigned ignorance, eyes on the counter, wiping its surface with the towel.

‘’You know exactly what I am talking about.’’

‘’No, I do not.’’ Konrad stubbornly denied and, equally as stubborn, Ben continued to nag. Before they both realised it, their argument had devolved into childish game of ‘yes and no’ that went on for several minutes until Ben decided to stop it by announcing his intention to search the information by himself, _directly from its source_ , prompting the old man to stop what he was doing and gave him a hard stare. ‘’You never handle something like her.’’ He protested.

‘’So it is true that the culprit is a woman.’’ Ben wondered if the abductor was that redheaded woman but dismissed the thought quickly. The serial disappearances had been consistently happening around the western part of Monsoon City. The cemetery was located on the southern border. There was never any mysterious disappearance being reported from that area.

Additionally, if she was the culprit, why gave him flowers instead of just outright abducted him like her other victims? After all, he fulfilled all her target’s criteria.

‘’And who said anything about handling her?’’ Ben raised a brow, tilting his head to the side in mock innocence.

Konrad stopped what he was doing and gave him an incredulous look. ‘’Are you saying that you do not have any intention of going after her?’’

‘’Why should I? She is not my problem.’’

‘’Then why are you asking about her?’’ The old man demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘’I am bored.’’ Ben took a bite of his madeleine, after chewing and swallowing the pastry, he continued. ‘’I likes mysteries and urban legends, but I have no interest or experience in hunting supernatural creatures.’’ Then, he pondered for a moment and mused loudly. ‘’Why does Sentinel not do something about her anyway? She has been terrorising this city for far too long for them not to notice. Her hunting method is not exactly subtle.’’

‘’I heard something happened to one of the main dragon veins. All of the active Operators had been called to the affected area to handle it.’’ Konrad answered, resuming his task of cleaning the counter before elaborating further. ‘’Sentinel are a relatively small organisation to begin with and ever since the… unfortunate disagreement with Erde’s Caretaker, they have been understaffed for quite a long while now, so they have no one to spare to handle the problem here when big crisis start to happen somewhere else.’’

‘’Also, recently, they lost two young Operators.’’ He added wistfully. Then, in what was obviously sarcasm, proposed. ‘’Care to apply for a job there?’’

‘’Hmmm,’’ Ben pretended to think deeply. ‘’Maybe I will. The experiences are bound to be interesting.’’

‘’Hey, I am just kidding with you!’’ The old man started to panic, task forgotten once again. ‘’Do not take my words so seriously! They only accept numalis and non-sequiturs into their ranks. They would never accept you! They might kill you in fact. Dear goodness, I should have never told you anything about them… I really am going senile…’’ He muttered, massaging his creasing forehead in distress.

‘’Relax old man, I am just kidding with you.’’ Ben replied calmly. ‘’Thank you for the information though, I am fortunate to never have an encounter with them, but now I know to steer clear from their path.’’

A little more calm now, Konrad cautioned. ‘’Never let them know that you know about them okay? The information I provides will not be enough to save your life.’’

Imperceptibly, the corner of Ben’s lips twitched upward before returning to his default, stoic façade. ‘’I am too much of a fool to die easily.’’

The old man rolled his eyes. ‘’From where do you know about Sentinel anyway?’’ He questioned.

‘’A friend of mine is affiliated with them, she provides me with a good research data for my books… which I suspect come from the missions done by the Operators, though she presented it as folklore stories she heard from somewhere. She never disclosed her affiliation openly to me.’’

‘’What on Erde is she thinking disclosing classified information like that to a civilian?’’ Konrad muttered, frowning disapprovingly.

‘’Most civilians would never consider her stories real.’’ Ben articulated. ‘’And what I write reflect nothing of its original sources, you should know that.’’ He pointed the half-eaten pastry he was holding to the bookshelves across the room, where some of the copies of his books were. ‘’Now, let us get back to our original topic: tell me what you know about the culprit.’’

The old man stared at Ben’s stony visage intently. ‘’You really have no intention on hunting her?’’ Konrad ventured.

‘’No, I just need data for my next book.’’

Konrad pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘’Very well then, but on one condition: _swore_ to me that you are not going to hunt her.’’ He ordered.

‘’Is that not a little…’’ Konrad glared at him. ‘’ _Fine_ , I solemnly swear that I will not sneak out behind your back to hunt for her.’’

‘’… I guess, that is as good as I can get from you.’’ Konrad sighed, shoulders slumped, and in a grim voice, he began.

‘’ _Dame Pluie,_ ’’

TTT

The first thing Batbayar registered when he woke up again was that, there was no pain.

The first coherent thought his mind conjured was, how did this happen?

Mother always advised him not to question a fortune that came his way, just be grateful for it. Unfortunately, he had a mind as curious as a cat and as the saying went, ‘curiosity kills the cat’, it was only a matter of time for this curious mind of his to lead him to his doom.

… Wait; now that he thought about it, if yesterday event was anything to go by, his curiosity almost already led him to his early grave. Perhaps, in addition to the curiosity of a cat, he also had their nine lives.

This meant he only had eight left because he was certain that he had already used one yesterday.

Anyway, back on topic: where had the pain gone? Not that he missed it. It was just not normal. An injury to the core, especially as deep as the one he suffered was not something that gone away without proper, extensive care. To heal properly, he needed outside help, and those who knew how to help him were either no more, hard to reach or had been gone for so long their existences had become nothing more than myth amongst myths.

Mother was long dead and Xiao Yin Long had gone missing for more than five thousand and six hundred years, the chance that he was still alive was null. The reason why he knew who Xiao Yin Long was due to mother made a mention of him in the journals she left behind, in addition to auntie also mentioning him once or twice in passing in relation to Xiao Yu Long, his son, who also had not been seen or heard for several centuries now.

According to what Batbayar overheard from the conversation between auntie and her colleges, after the death of his third wife, the ancient _youxia_ had decided to embrace a life of a hermit, living high up in the mountain, in a place only reachable by few.

There were plenty of discussions between her colleges on how to convince the ancient youxia from leaving his self-imposed exiled, but considering this discussion had been going on for _three hundred years_ now, it seemed unlikely that Xiao Yu Long would come down from the mountain anytime soon.

Was he dreaming then? He would have accepted that theory, if not for the fact that he was very much awake right now forced that theory to swallow a cyanide pill, dragged it to the corner and left it there to die alone and quietly. This definitely not a lucid dream he was experiencing.

Speaking about waking and dreaming, time for him to wake up properly now. He still had his eyes closed, so he better opened them and did just that.

The familiar sight of the fire sprinkler mounted to the ceiling of his bedroom greeted his dark brown eyes. He blinked. Odd, he did not remember going back to his room. The last thing he remembered was going to the laundry room on the third floor and then… nothing.

He must have passed out on the way there, which raised the question: who brought him back to his room? As far as he knew, he was alone in the house with the exception of—

Abruptly, Batbayar sat up, surprised by how light his body felt was, and looked to his right, expecting to see small, pale body still peacefully sleeping beside him only to find it empty.

Where did he go?

Frantically looking around the room, searching for his mysterious guest, his gaze landed on a small folded piece of paper on the nightstand, sitting next to his mobile phone. Batbayar picked up the paper, which turned out to be a note, instantly recognising the elegant cursive and all thoughts of the missing child fled from his mind.

 _‘Meals are ready. If you feel hungry, call me and I will bring the food to you’ — Auntie_.

Auntie was here.

She was home.

She was supposed to be still in Odin City for another month. What was she doing coming back home so early?

Batbayar sighed. She definitely wanted an explanation about what had happened here. How much should he tell her?

He read the note once more then placed it back on the nightstand and scooted out of bed. After some habitual stretching, the dark-haired teen walked out of his bedroom and gone straight to the kitchen where he was promptly assaulted by enticing smell of foods that permeated the atmosphere, causing his stomach to let out a growl loud enough to be mistaken for his true form. Batbayar took note of the foods presented on the table, mouth instantly watered at the sight and his stomach growled louder.

Boiled eggs, roasted beef, baked potatoes, broccoli and mushroom pie, shrimp and sautéed spinach, and bitter melon stir-fry were spread out on the table. Assorted fruits, both dried and fresh, filled a silver bowl, sitting next to the rice cooker and two jugs of orange juice and empty glasses. A pot of meat stews was simmering on the stove under auntie’s tender care. Her back was to him, not aware of his presence… yet.

Batbayar debated for a moment whether he should announce his presence or not and eventually decided not to alert her just yet. Slowly, gently, he dragged the chair out from the dining table and settled down on it as silently as he could, grabbed one of the jugs and poured its content into one of the empty glasses and brought it to his lips, gulping the juice down. Once finished, the dark-haired teen let out a quiet content sight, feeling refresh, realisation finally sunk in of how much better he felt compared to yesterday.

Nevertheless, just to be sure. Awareness turning inward, Batbayar entered his soul space, unlike last time; he did not idle and went straight to check on his core.

It still looked like a rotten apple, but the animarum had stopped leaking, those pooling on the floor had been reabsorbed into his systems. The wound had closed up and dried, leaving behind a quite distinct scar. Overall, sixty-seven percent of his injury had already recovered and heal well without a hitch. If Batbayar were a lesser man, he would have his lower jaw fell off and hit the floor right now.

Yes, this was definitely not a dream. He hoped this was _not_ a dream.

Returning to the real world, Batbayar plucked a dried grape from the bowl and tossed it into his mouth, then reached for the cooker and scooped a large mound of rice to the empty plate in front of him, and topped it with a generous amount of each dishes served on the table. After uttering a silent prayer, the dark-haired teen wasted no time to inhale his meal with the patient of a starving man all the while straining to maintain proper table manners.

In what felt like almost less than a minute, the plate was sparkling and free from every trace of foods, yet, his stomach was not even half-full.

He was about to take a second helping, when the empty plate in front of him was replaced with another plate of warm rice and meat stew, still hot from the stove, which he quick to attack ferociously. No other thoughts entered his mind in that moment, except for how tender the meat was, its natural flavour blended perfectly with the seasonings, creating a heavenly taste that made his tongue danced, making him felt so lucky to be alive.

Only later, after he was done finishing the plate number twenty-three and felt his stomach finally stopped making demand, only then did he notice the third presence in the room other than him and auntie.

Slowly, Batbayar looked up and had his dark brown eyes locked with familiar sky blue eyes.

Saying that the silence that followed was awkward was understatement. For what seemed like eternity, they just stared at each other without words. Here the missing child was, wide-awake, sitting just across the table from him, clad in brand-new white pyjamas, wearing expression as blank as canvas. If the Walking Ice Block were here, he would be proud.

Children were no strange creatures for Batbayar. He thanked Keisuke’s little brothers for that. Being around them erased away the seed of awkwardness that some people had around children before it could take root.

However, this child was no mere child. This child had been the cause of his near death. His mind and body was well aware of this fact and just like the old Lady Batbayar once saw on a show on TV who shied away from using elevator ever again after experiencing being trapped there for hours, the black-haired teen could not help but feeling instinctively wary of him.

Finally realising that the silence had overstaying its welcome, Batbayar was about to open his mouth to dismiss it, even though he knew not what to say, but apparently, someone else decided that her shriek was more adequate for the task than any words he had.

His eardrums begged to differ.

Rubbing his ringing ears, Batbayar turned his gaze to the house’s sole female resident.

Kumori Koswara, today, as any other days, she was clad in traditional blouse-dress combination called _kebaya_ and _kain batik_ with predominant colour being dark red. The older woman had high cheekbones and strong jaw, reminiscent of hardy Germanic background, but her waist-length hair—styled into half-do and decorated by flower hair comb— was dark and her icy blue eyes, which were glaring disapprovingly at him, had an exotic lilt to it, due in no small amount to Japanese ancestry.

‘’You should be in bed.’’ She chastised.

Batbayar waved his hand, tried vainly to dismiss her concern with the gesture. ‘’No, thank you, I already have enough rest. Besides, I feel much better now.’’

‘’That is good, but you are not recover fully yet.’’ She informed, walking around the counter, stepping into to the dining area and stopping behind the chair the white-haired boy occupied. ‘’Your injury is not something to be taken lightly. Tsubaki said that you would need at least fifty years to return to your prior condition.’’

That answered one of his questions and raised another— who was Tsubaki?—, but before he could ask, he was shortly distracted by a brief flare of the boy’s soul field. Batbayar looked at him, only for him to look down, deliberately avoiding looking at the teen.

‘’Is that bad huh?’’ Not wanting to make the pale boy more uncomfortable than he already had, Batbayar turned his attention to the jug and helped himself to another glass of heavenly tang.

‘’You could have die.’’

There was that flare again, and this time, it lingered long enough for Batbayar to recognise the emotion contained within the field: it was guilt. He shifted his attention back to the pale boy, whom, almost imperceptibly, twitched. On anyone else, he would have called it a flinch.

Eyes still glued to the table, the tiny little thing opened his mouth, voice soft and vacant as though speaking from far away or half-drowned in a dream. ‘’Thank you for the meal, I would like to return to the guest room if you will not mind.’’

Turning her attention to the small boy, auntie’s demeanour softened, smiling kindly, combing her fingers through the short, white fluffy hair in a way that made Batbayar’s heart twanged with longing, though that feeling quickly vanished when the boy’s shoulders stiffened before slowly relaxing.

However, his soul field, which had flared up once again, this time from discomfort, continued to fluctuate erratically like violinist overwhelmed by stage fright causing him to play badly, clashing oddly with the carefully blank expression he wore. It was easy to mistake the boy for a statue with how outwardly unresponsive he was to the gesture, making him looked uncannily like Victorian doll.

He looked more alive and peaceful when he was asleep.

Auntie, in something that was out-of-character of her, seemed not to notice or deliberately ignored the child’s odd behaviour.

‘’I will call you when dinner is ready.’’ The white-haired child nodded, got down from the chair and all but bolted out of the kitchen.

Batbayar kept his ears trained upon him, when the dark-haired teen heard the pale boy entered the guest room and closed the door, he looked to auntie, question ready at the tip of his tongue but the neutral expression on her face stopped him from uttering even a sound.

Soul field kept tightly contained, giving no insight to her emotional state, instead, auntie focused her attention on gathering the dirty plates Batbayar had accumulated on the table, bringing them to the sink and started washing them. On another time, Batbayar would have offered his help, but his instinct told him to stay out of her way for now.

Once done with the dishes, auntie sauntered over to the table with casual, graceful gait that reminded him of a cobra. Settling down on the chair the white-haired child previously occupied, propping her elbows on the table, locking her fingers together and resting her chin on the back of her hands.

The move was nonchalant, harmless, until she released the rein in her soul field, revealing the action as calm before the storm and, immediately, Batbayar stiffened. Self-reservation instinct screaming at him to run, sensing the inherent danger radiating from her soul field, but like deer in the headlight, he froze in terror. Dark and sinister feelings tainting the atmosphere, polluting it with malice, Batbayar would have suffocated if he had not already stopped breathing.

‘’Now,’’ Auntie started, smiling a frighteningly sweet smile that sent chilled down his spines. ‘’Care to fill me in on what happened here while I was gone?’’ She enunciated each word in an equally sweet tone that promised nothing but immense pain, far greater than anything he had ever felt in his near future.

Batbayar swallowed nervously. Why did he not run away when he had the chance?

TTT

The small room was very utilitarian, empty from any personal belongings; there were only a single-size bed with three storage drawers in the corner and a nightstand. The only décor to cheer up the room was the mural on the walls and ceiling, depicting realistic images of lone oak tree in the middle of a prairie and seemingly endless expand of blue skies and white clouds.

Ben sat on the floor facing the curtain-covered window with his legs crossed, back leaning against the bedstead; hands busied taking apart, reassembling and reloading a semi-automatic gun.

Meticulously laid out on the floor in front of him were various types of weapons, ranging from firearms to blades to a pair of customised brass knuckles with shotgun shells attached to it. Sitting alongside the weapons were unusual rounds—the cartridge-cases itself were a normal common metal, but the bullets seemed to be made from transparent materials filled with dark, red liquids— and cigar iron case.

Once he was done reloading all the firearms, he stored the largest, unwieldy weapons within the subspace pocket in his watch along with spare ammunitions and kept the rest under his waterproof coat, his back, behind the belt, boots, and blade holders strapped to his lower arms, hidden beneath his sleeves. He put his favourite Desert Eagles in the concealed holster under his armpit and pocketed the iron case inside the small pocket in his coat.

Putting on a pair of gloves, Ben grabbed his fedora from the nightstand, opened the window, and paused, turning around to look at his bedroom. Briefly musing if this was how being a rebellious teenager felt like.

Thanking Konrad for the novelty feeling, the blond-haired man climbed out of the window and dropped down on a crouch on the water-saturated sidewalk, water splashing against his boots, raindrops falling upon the concrete ground with deafening, rhythmic sound of exploding fireworks, masking the noise of his landing.

Ben stood up, put on his fedora, and walked through the winding, narrow streets.

Monsoon City was not exactly a big city but it was not small either. The citizens rarely go out at night—, at least the sane one would not—, content to interact with friends and families through V.I.R.T.U.E.S from the warmth and safety of their homes. Cars and motorcycles had long since been abandoned in favour for a more dry, rapid transit running below the surface, the result of never ending monsoon making the roads too slippery to use safely, so relying on public transports to reach his destination were out of the question. Making his way on foot was Ben’s only option.

Rains fell down like waterfalls, the skies were already dark during the day but more so during the night, reducing visibility to near zero. No mercury lamps to light up the paths, the occasional flashes of lightings were his only sources of illumination. This made the tall man more alert and wary than usual, so when someone seized his arm and latched onto the appendage so suddenly and without warning, catching him completely off guard, Ben fought down the reflexive urge to throw the person off him, hard, when he realised that the person was a woman.

Rational thoughts won over survival instinct. Just because a woman out late at night in the city where its citizen rarely goes outside at this time did not make her the one he was searching, Ben quietly justified to himself.

Abruptly stopping on his step, Ben looked down. Hard sapphires locked with warm emerald and immediately softened.

‘’I did not expect to see you here.’’ Ben commented.

‘’You are taking too long.’’ _She_ replied with a smile far beautiful than any jewels. ‘’It has been awhile since we last saw each other, I miss you.’’

‘’Yes,’’ Ben acknowledged. ‘’I miss you too—’’ One glove-covered hand reached out to touch _her_ face, caressing _her_ cheek with his thumb, he leaned his head down close to hers until their noses almost touch, and breathed out _her_ name.

‘’— _Evelyn_.’’

TTT

‘’And that was what happened here while you were gone.’’ Batbayar finished telling his story, somehow managed not to stutter in his monologue despite auntie’s terror wave, still palpable in the air even though she had returned it to dormancy at the start of his long soliloquy.

Batbayar supposed; he ought to get used to how auntie acted by now when she was upset. Auntie was incapable of harming him, intentional or not, however, her ‘terror wave’— as he had silently dubbed it— was capable of overloading the fears within any souls unfortunate enough to be caught inside its affected radius, robbing them from the ability to form any rational thoughts.

Once you were caught in its grip, it was difficult, bordering on impossible even, to overcome its influence unless the person affected possessed a strong, unbreakable will.

So far, Batbayar had not yet met a person who could overcome auntie’s terror wave. Not even the Walking Ice Block was immune to its effect, though the older man earned his respect from being able to maintain a cool composure.

‘’I would like to proudly claim that I do not need to tell you of how dangerous, stupid and reckless your action was because you are wise enough not to do it. Unfortunately, you have proven to me that I do not have that kind of luxury.’’ Auntie’s calm rebuke felt like a slap to the face. It stung. Once again, her field radiated displeasure, with sadness, concern and aggravation added into the mix. Fortunately, there was no heavy current of evil overlapping it. This fact did nothing to lessen his guilt though.

‘’I _trusted_ your judgement to make a rational decision in a difficult situation. Admittedly, however, that is not the case. What happened in the forest is not your responsibility, but Sentinel. You should have gone home and call them so they can send their Operators to take care of the problem, instead, you went to the forest alone and try to be a hero. Do you not see what it had done to you?’’

Thoughts of becoming a hero never crossed his mind. Sure, he sometimes daydreamed about saving the day with his favourite fictional hero, Obsidian Steel Knight, but Batbayar only ever took on the role of genius scientist that provided the heroes with advanced gadgets. Keisuke was the one who wanted to be on the frontline and directly helped the Steel Knights. The other teen was even making up his own codename: Solaris… He went off a tangent here.

Back on track, thinking about it carefully, auntie had a point. As she said, he should have returned home and called the Sentinel. That time, he had let his fear and worries for his friend to cloud his judgement, making him acted without further thoughts… however, those death Operators had proven that no one in the immediate area could stop the fog… not that he could claim the responsibility for stopping it in the end.

‘’Do you even know what do you need to do to stop the fog?’’ The solemn question and the pointed, knowing look auntie sent his way made him queasy.

Batbayar shifted on his seat, knuckles white under the table. Yes, he knew what needed to be done… and he tried hard not to think about it. He was just glad that he did not need to do it in the end. In hindsight, having his body severely weakened was a small price to pay, considering the alternative.

The citizens were safe, the boy was alive, and he did not become a murderer, happy conclusion for everyone.

… Well, except for that forest… and those two Operators. It would take centuries for the forest to recover and he doubted it would ever fully heal, especially that meadow. It would never be the same again. Even when thousands years had passed, that place would forever be barren and lifeless, a scar that would never heal.

Unless of course if Batbayar gave a part of his animarum to help rejuvenated the place, but in his current condition, he was no use to anyone let alone the planet.

He could only pray for the relatives that the two Operators left behind; hoping they could move on and not let the grief consumed them … because they would find _him_ standing in their way if they decide to seek retribution on the pale boy.

‘’Can I ask you some questions?’’ Batbayar ventured, wanting to stir his thoughts away from the surge of protectiveness he suddenly had for the boy.

Auntie silently gestured for him to go ahead.

‘’Who informed you of my situation?’’

‘’Who do you think has the third spare key to this house beside us?’’ She inquired rhetorically.

‘’I see,’’ Batbayar made a mental note to treat his friend to a crepe. ‘’Who cure me?’’

‘’Tsubaki’’

‘’I do not know him.’’

‘’He is Sentinel’s newest member, although he is not a new player to the _Dusk World_.’’ She smiled mysteriously. ‘’Actually, you _heard_ me mentioned him several times _under different name_.’’

This time, Batbayar’s lower jaw did drop.

‘’What did you do to convince him to finally come down from the mountain?’’ He blurted out.

Auntie put an index finger to her rosy lips; icy blue eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘’That my dear, is a secret~’’ She winked.

Batbayar snorted, grabbed the half-empty jug and poured himself another glass of orange. ‘’Fine then, can you at least tell me about what you find about that boy?’’ Knowledge was power; the dark-haired teen had no doubt that auntie had been turning over every stones searching for information about that child since she found out about his existence.

Then, a sudden thought struck him. ‘’His information is something that you can share with me right?’’ Batbayar ventured. He hoped it would not be filed under Classified above Top-Secret shelf like so many other information she had.

Auntie blinked. There was a paused. Then, her expression became serious. ‘’You do not realise it do you?’’

Batbayar blinked at her in confusion. ‘’What is it?’’ He inquired, absently picking up the glass from the table and brought it to his lips.

‘’I will give you a hint: that child, I cannot sense his presence.’’

At that, Batbayar chocked, spat out his orange juice and coughed his lungs out. It took him a while to regain his bearing to ponder on auntie’s words.

What did she meant she could not sense the child’s presence? She was one of— if not— the most powerful and skilled psychics in the continent. As far as he knew, her sensing ability was unrivalled. It was impossible to hide from her radar no matter how skilled you were in hiding your presence.

Unless of course if you were happened to be a member of—

Realisation hit him like a ton of brick.

… It could not be.

‘’I see you have come to the same conclusion as mine.’’

‘’What make you so sure?’’ Batbayar inquired tonelessly, opening an eye he had not realised he had closed. ‘’He could be just—’’ He stopped before he could let out unmanly squeak.

Expression decidedly neutral, the mixed-blood woman calmly wiped the juice and saliva from her face with a napkin. The terror wave made its return and slowly building up like tides before returning as a tsunami. Ignoring the effect it had on the dark-haired teen, she replied to his unfinished question.

‘’I called Siluco to check that possibility, and he confirmed that no visitors from _Agul_ or _Outer Planes_ has travel through the _Silver Plane_ , or from anywhere else for that matters, since three years ago. Now, I will be in my office, if you need anything just knocks. Make sure that you talk to the boy, okay?’’ Once her face was dried, she gracefully rose from her seat and made her way to the door, leaving him alone on the table, completely petrified.

TTT

Bloods, once thick, was now as aqueous as the water that drifted it away. Ben leaned his shoulder against a wall near a mouth of an alley, palm pressed against his abdomen, trying to staunch off the blood flow, while his other hand held around his Dessert Eagle, the barrel pointed down to the flooded, concrete floor.

 _She_ had viciously lunged at him with the speed of rattlesnake. He had not expected that, had been too overconfident to think that _Dame Pluie_ would be so easy to handle, and paid dearly for it.

For no apparent reason, the corners of his lips sharply curved upward, one year of inactivity and he already gotten complacent.

_Ben_

Against common senses, _her_ quiet familiar voice that Ben loved so much could be heard clearly over the loud, rhythmic pounding of Monsoon City’s constant showers as though _she_ was whispering it directly to his ear. It was as uncomfortable as the cool, sharp blade pressed against the back of his neck by his instructor once upon a time, making him involuntary shivered.

Pushing himself up from the wall, he entered the alley, stowing himself away behind a dumpster, pressed a button on his watch and out came a small holographic map of his surroundings. There was no sight of _her_ on the radar, which meant...

Ben aimed his gun skyward and pulled the trigger. _Her_ shriek was a combination of bat resonating screech and a nail on a chalkboard, deafening him for a moment, but he did not let that hindered him in the least. Quickly, he rolled out of his hiding place, stopping on a crouch and fired three times, aiming for _her_ chest. Unfortunately, _she_ evaded it easily by becoming intangible, dispersing like smoke, becoming one with the rain.

The bullets striking the asphalt, leaving glaring mark that quickly dropped to the bottom list of his concern the moment he felt a heavy weight dropped across his back with enough strength to make him staggered. Long slender arms held easily and tightly onto his neck and across his broad chest and  _she_ clamped _her_ jaws hard on his shoulder, ripping off a mouthful of flesh with _her_ teeth.

Ben gritted his teeth at the hot, searing pain. Nevertheless, he was undeterred and used the opportunity of their close proximity to press the muzzle of his gun to _her_ forehead, emptying the magazine into _her_ brain, splattering grey matters into the asphalt, with added bonus of pushing _her_ off his back.

Ignoring the pain, Ben discarded the empty magazine and quickly reloaded the new one and pivoted, the wound on his stomach twanged, protesting the movement, only to find _her_ fingers wrapped around his throat, not that it stopped him from pumping _her_ stomach full of leads and sheathing the blade that he pulled from his sleeve directly to _her_ heart. Pressing the button on the handle, discharging a high voltage of electric current through _her_ body, an action that soon proved futile when _she_ simply tossed him to the wall of the alley like a piece of rag.

Pain exploded from his back and Ben grunted, sapphire eyes closed without his consent, and _she_ laughed. The sound was as unpleasant to hear as _her_ scream and he would like to say that the pounding in his head was because of _her_ laugh, but let us not kid ourselves here. Something warm was trickling down from the back of his head, the pain in his shoulder was getting worst, not to mention his stomach, a lucky hit from their first confrontation that happened around… how long had it been since he made his tactical retreat? It seemed, as he tried to make her lost track of him, he had in return, lost track of time.

Suddenly, choking noise replaced _her_ laughter, and then his adversary began hissing like a dying cat, prompting him to open his eyes to see _her_ convulsing on the asphalt like a fish on land. _Her_ face, once so beautiful and mesmerising, now distorted whirlpool of flesh and skin, a clump of clay moulded by the hands of six years old.

‘’… That is what you get from biting more than you can chew.’’ He managed to mutter. The bloods had finally taken effect, a little longer than usual. For a moment there, he worried that it had failed to work. Eating his flesh might have helped speeding up the process. Ben made a mental note to increase its dosage the next time he encountered something like _her_ again.

With some difficulty, Ben fished out the cigar case from his coat and opened the lid, instead of cancer sticks; the case was holding vials of bloods, similar to the ones contained in the bullets. Relieved that the vials were intact despite his rough treatment, Ben took out one and clicked the button on the side of the vial, popping out the needle at the end.

Struggling to his feet, using the wall to prop himself up, Ben stood and wobbled, feeling lightheaded, hand braced against the wall, leaning against it on unsteady legs, approaching _her_ , lowering himself on one knee, with a quick stab, he injected the dark red liquid into _her_ neck.

Immediately, _her_ lithe form was drawn taut like a bow, and then slumped like a puppet whose string had been cut. Flesh and skin melted like ice cream under merciless summer sun, bloods so black it might as well be oil was quickly swept away by the flood along with what was left of _her_ skins. _Her_ hissing turned into a whimper, and slowly, gradually, lowered in pitch until it could no longer be heard over the loud, pounding rain.

Feeling the endless showers soothing his pain, Ben stared blankly at _her_ fleshless skeleton.

‘’Thank you’’ He whispered.

Then, the world collapsed and plunged him into darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to the view of pure blue sky… no, correction, he opened his eyes to the view of a ceiling, painted to replicate the blue sky. Just like its other siblings that covered every walls and ceilings in this building, this mural was made in realism style. Too bad, the poor illumination muted the colour. Outside, rains pattered noisily on the window, soothing him with its lullaby.

‘’How did you found me? ’’ Ben inquired straight-to-the-point. His voice sounded as though he had a frog inside his throat.

Konrad’s grim visage came into view, replacing the brilliant view of the ceiling, holding a kettle with long, thin spout, which the old man brought to touch his eager lips. The water tasted peculiar but pleasant, probably from vitamins and supplements Konrad had added, not that he care if it was poison the old man fed him, his dried throat drank the water greedily, feeling each drops severed the last thread of sleep that held his mind in temporary death and brought him closer to life.

Once he was done, Konrad put the kettle down beside his feet and settled himself down on the chair at the foot of the bed Ben occupied.

Then, he dropped the bombshell.

‘’You have been in coma for two weeks.’’ He informed.

At that, in momentary weakness, Ben let emotion slipped to his visage. This time, it was his turn impersonating a goldfish. ‘’How could that be? I know I was losing a lot of blood, but that was not something that warranted a coma.’’

‘’Well, that because _I_ put you, I have a tank in the basement.’’ Konrad elaborated.

Ben’s hand went to his neck, where his oldest scar was located, then to his shoulder, where the _Dame Pluie_ had ripped off a chunk of his flesh, and found only smooth skins.

Now, he had no reason to wear his favourite turtleneck sweaters anymore. ‘’You are devious.’’

The old man chuckled humourlessly. ‘’I could say the same thing about you.’’ He scowled. ‘’ _You broke your promise_. _You_ _lied_ _to_ _me_.’’ Konrad growled. ‘’If I had not planted a tracker on your coat and found you in time, you would not be here right now but with Yue and Evelyn… or is that your plan in the first place?’’

Ben did not squirm, he had been better trained for that, but the intensity of Konrad’s gaze, mirrored that of his verbal lashing, making his insides twisting into knots, hurting him in the way that all kind of tortures he had endured never had. Not only the old man reduced him to a rebellious teenager, he went one-step further and returned him to that child he no longer been since he was eight.

It made him wanted to laugh— so, laughed he did.

Once he had recovered, Ben met Konrad’s bemused look, and just for the fun of it, stretched his mouth to a wide, deranged grin worthy of Roan’s approval, which stretched wider and wider when it made the old man visibly flinched until it was quickly snuffed out like candle when a teddy bear flied and bonked him on the head.

‘’You should know better than to expect me to keep my promises old man, even Yue knows— _knew_ that.’’ Ben quickly sobered up and gave the old man a tire lift of his mouth, a pathetic, little broken thing that had audaciously called itself a smile. Grief held inside for so long was now laid bare, as visible as stars on a moonless night for Konrad to see.

‘’Contrary to what you believe, I am not suicidal. I do not think I could face Yue and Evelyn on the other side.’’ He confided. Considering his sins, Ben doubted he would be sent to the same place as the two people he loved the most when he died. ‘’So you do not have to worry. You will have me around to mother hen for a little longer.’’

‘’I am not a mother hen.’’ Konrad denied quietly, without vehement, but still looked decidedly affronted.

‘’Uh-huh,’’ He picked the teddy bear Konrad threw at him and rubbed his thumb on its snow-white head absently. ‘’And I am not a cold-blooded killer.’’

The old man scowled. ‘’Do not make a joke about that.’’

‘’Would you rather me brooding over it then?’’

‘’Now, that is even worse.’’

Ben chuckled. This time, the sound came out genuine. ‘’And all the black I wore does not help my image, does it?’’

‘’Indeed,’’ Konrad chuckled, stood up and reached out to mess with his blonde hair much to Ben consternation. He was thirty not twelve.

Returning to his seat, Konrad gestured to the mural on the ceiling and remarked. ‘’He made that you know.’’

‘’I am sure he did.’’ Ben agreed, voice returned to its default monotone, but there was no mistaking the pride in his sapphire eyes. ‘’Tell me Konrad,’’ He started, propping himself up to sitting position and leaning his back against the headboard. ‘’Was he happy?’’

‘’He was happy.’’ Konrad nodded, grey eyes taking on a faraway look, indicating that he was wandering into one of his memory lanes. ‘’He grow up to be an optimistic and cheerful child, no matter how bleak the situation was, nothing could put his spirit down. He made many friends here, from old to young, his existence warmed everyone’s hearts… there were no one in this city who did not feel his loss.’’ He sighed wistfully. ‘’He reminded me so much of Evelyn.’’

‘’He did get his sunny disposition from her.’’ Ben agreed. ‘’The first time we met, Evelyn scolded me for not spending enough time with Yue.’’ He mused fondly. The memory of his late wife smiling sweetly before delivering a slap that left red mark on his face for two weeks came to the forefront of his mind, earning him a long week of shameless teasing from Elliot and Roan, and Nebel’s bemusement.

Evelyn was a very brave woman. She never found out about his former job, but he had a feeling that she would still hit him even if she knew what he used to do to pay the hospital bills.

Would she still choose to be with him if she knew?

‘’I would never meet her if not for the spoiled brat.’’ Ben continued with his musing. She loved Yue as though he was her own little brother, as though Yue was her own son even before they married... He wondered what she would say if she was here now. He had failed to fulfil his promise again after all.

‘’You have been here for almost two months, but this is the first time you talk about Yue and Evelyn.’’ At Konrad’s remark, guilt suddenly twisted his insides; Ben turned his gaze to the old man. ‘’Konrad I—‘’

Konrad held up his hand, cutting off Ben’s words, and shook his head. ‘’The happiest moments in my granddaughter’s life was when she was with you. You need not to apologise about what had happened. I never blame you. She was happy, that was all that matter.’’ Suddenly, his expression turned thoughtful. ‘’Still, I could not help but wonder what exactly she saw in you?’’ ’Konrad testified, raising one grey brow.

‘’I am still wondering about that myself.’’ Ben’s expression never changed, but an almost undetected lilt to his tone indicated that he was smirking.

Solemnly, they stared at each other in silence before breaking out in a gale of laughter.

‘’Now, go back to rest.’’ Konrad ordered after regaining his breath, wiping the tears of mirth from the corner of his eyes. ‘’It is time for me to prepare dinner, does soup sound appealing to you?’’

‘’Will it be cream asparagus?’’

‘’If that is what you want’’

‘’Yes, that is what I want.’’

‘’Very well,’’ With that, the old man left, leaving Ben alone… in his _brother’s_ _room_.

The one place in this house he had been avoided like the black plague since his return from the cemetery. Not yet, ready to confront the remnants that his brother left behind. Other than occasionally, giving him a look of understanding, Konrad never said anything about his reluctant to enter this room.

Now, here he was. Konrad must be much more upset than he let on.

Sapphire blue eyes wandered over the small bedroom, resembling a mix between art studio and supply closet than a room for sleep. Paint tins and canvases of various sizes stacked in organise chaos, waiting patiently for someone who would never return. Brushes, coloured pencils and books cluttered the surface of the study desk alongside Konrad’s _CleverPad_. The bookshelf bolted to the wall next to the door and the sleigh bed situated in the alcove beneath the window was the only furniture in the room that could be called ‘orderly’ in the classical sense.

‘’ _Big brother, look what I drew for you!_ ’’

‘’ _These are very lovely Yue, thank you._ ’’

‘’ _You really think so?_ ’’

‘’ _Yes, really, I think this is worthy to be my next novel illustrations._ ’’

‘’ _No, you cannot use those._ ’’

‘’ _And why can I not?_ ’’

‘’ _Your stories deserve more than ‘lovely’ drawings, I will draw the best illustrations for you!_ ’’

‘’ _I look forward to it then._ ’’

Ben’s face met his palm, fingers absently rubbing the stubbles on his chin. Not even seven minutes yet he stayed conscious in this room and his mind already strayed to the past. Leaving him in this room really was a punishment. Truly, Konrad could be cruel when he wanted.

Desperate for distraction, but unfortunately, leaving this room was out of the question lest he upset the old man even more, so, Ben picked up Konrad’s CleverPad, might as well checked the news on the local newsfeed.

The main headline talked about another discovery of Lost Technology at the archaeological site not too far from Odin City. Kumori sure was busied. Unsurprisingly, no reports on the local weather broadcast. Nothing note worthy anyway, just repeated advice to check on the heater in the house, making sure that it was working perfectly because the temperature was going to be really cold tonight. The gossip column was talking about the latest celebrity scandals like always… well, except for a former model-turned-CEO of Yadoriki Corp, Ran Yadorigi, who busied herself on a humanitarian mission in the border. Sport showed the scores of the latest sports games, obviously.

Documentary posted info of the immigration of monarch butterflies…

… There went his thoughts to his brother again. Ben sighed in resignation and read that last article to the end. Yue would love to draw the monarch butterflies. That thought plunged a sharp sword through his chest and Ben embraced it with open arms.

Speaking about sketchbook… he had not noticed it was there. Lodged between the bed and the wall, thin enough to fit seamlessly between the crevice to be overlooked, you needed a little amount of luck and be so bored and idle, or be the person that kept it there in the first place to realise that it was there all along.

Ben slipped his hand between the gaps, fingers too thick to fit comfortably, making fishing the item out of its hiding place quite difficult, but finally managed to retrieve it.

It was a sketchbook, just as he had suspected, though, he had not expected it to be so familiar. Simple ebony cover with Yue’s name adorned the right top side of the cover, written in metallic ink, in the ancient language of the land from where his name was originated. Ben had bought this sketchbook as celebratory present for Yue’s discharge from the hospital.

Maybe, he should leave this sketchbook alone. Yue must have a reason to keep it there, separated from its fellow brethrens that occupied the bookshelves. The blond-haired man was not so naïve to think that his little brother would remain ignorant and innocent forever.

Well, unless the brat had something that he wanted, he played the role of innocent and ignorant like a pro.

Tapping his index finger against the cover, Ben stared at the ebony cover, internally debating whether he should open the sketchbook or not. The answer to that was yes, he should not and flipped the sketchbook open.

Now, let us see, if the content was what he thoughts it was.

The first several pages were innocent enough. There was a rough sketch of the mural in his bedroom followed by several sketches of him, Konrad and Evelyn. One of them depicted Evelyn with— his heart chords strummed with the note of sorrow— a baby in her arm… their unborn child.

Ben smiled bitterly, even without his eidetic memory; he would never forget the joy dancing in her emerald eyes when she informed that she was pregnant. As for him, someone who only knew how to take life had somehow conceive a life… well, saying that he was so shock from disbelief was putting it mildly.

His eyes wandered to the stack of canvases in the corner of the room. Had Yue painted this sketch?

Later, Ben made a mental note to search for it later.

The next sketch depicted an unknown fourteen-year-old girl with short hair. She was quiet the lovely one. The amount of pages devoted to her almost rivalled the pages devoted to him, Konrad and Evelyn, so it safe to assume that she was someone dear to Yue, making Ben curious, what kind of relationship did they had?

Making another mental note to look for her, Ben flipped the sketchbook to another page, the subject this time was an elegant-looking woman with a pair of black wings on her back.

Sapphire blue eyes narrowed, Ben inspected the woman closely, recognising her. She was the one who gave him flowers outside the cemetery.

Was she also Yue’s friends?

That question was answer sooner than he thought. A Polaroid photo slipped off from between the pages of the sketchbook and fell to his lap. Ben picked it up. It was the group photo of Yue with the woman and a boy of Yue’s age with wavy, short black hair, sitting together on a stone bench with a broken down mansion as the background.

The two boys were smiling jovially while the woman kept her expression decidedly neutral, though Ben thought he detected a hint of a smile.

For some reason, the wavy-haired boy was sitting at an arm-length distance from the woman… as though there was someone sitting there between him and her.

His suspicion was proven correct when his gaze wandered below the picture. Written on the white space in neat handwriting were, ‘’ _Me, Kirei, Elise and Kirian. (You cannot see Elise in the picture but she is there)._ ’’

Elise was the one invisible; Kirian was a boy name, this meant, the redheaded woman was Kirei. What a fitting name.

Ben had no talent in sensing soul field, but he could tell that the woman was not human. The disappearing act she pulled on their first meeting could be used as prove to back up his assessment. He doubted that her wings were only there just for effects, considering Yue’s art style— with the exception of Evelyn and their unborn child— had been consistently in the realm of realism.

… Then again, what Yue viewed as reality was different from most people.

Just like the shorthaired girl from before, there were several more sketches of the redheaded woman, some alone, some with the wavy-haired boy, some with the shorthaired girl—, which Ben suspected to be Elise—, and some with the three of them together. The amounts of details Yue devoted to her drawings made the blond-haired man evaluated his prior assessment of the nature of his brother’s relationship with the shorthaired girl.

The next sketch made him paused. Ben’s brows furrowed in rare display of confusion.

Why Yue drew a sketch of himself? Never in a million years had he thought his brother would develop a sense of narcissism.

… Additionally, never in a million years he would see that expression on his brother’s face. The expression spoke of hardship and quiet suffering from carrying a burden far too heavy to be held by someone of his age. He remembered seeing this expression on his mentor’s face and on his own every time he looked at the mirror when he was much younger than his brother was.

The date written in the corner of the sketch was December - 01 - 0012, a weeks before Yue’s death. Ben narrowed his eyes. Could he— no, Yue would never do that. He had made a vow to keep on living in the place of all his deceased friends, and unlike him, his brother would never broke a promise no matter what happened.

Ben leaned the back of his head against the headboard and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could not shake the feeling that he was missing something. This made no sense.

Letting out a sigh, he decided to go back to sleep and mulled this problem in the morning when he had clearer mind.

With that thought, he put the sketchbook on the desk, placed the CleverPad on top of it and laid himself down on the bed, grabbed the teddy bear and brought the stuffed toy to his chest, turning to his side, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Profile:
> 
> Name: Ben  
> Gender: Male  
> Age: 33  
> Birthday: January 28, 9981  
> Height: 200 cm  
> Weight: 80 kg  
> Eyes: Sapphire  
> Hair: Blond  
> Blood Type: O  
> Likes: Madeleines, sweets, coconut milks, coffees, mysteries and urban legends  
> Dislikes: Elliot Vos, Nebel Yeager, civet coffee
> 
>  
> 
> Glossary:  
> Dame Pluie: a predator that took on the form of a young woman, she loved to hunt on the rainy days, which was the origin of her name, ‘Rain Lady’. Its favourite preys were men with broken hearts, those who left behind by their wives to the graves, luring them to her trap by impersonating their deceased wives’ appearances.  
> Dame Pluie could hypnotise anyone who locked eyes with her, trapping the victims in their most cherished memory while she devoured their flesh. So, be careful and not looked her in the eye when you see her okay?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading this story (bowed head).  
> English was not my native language, so I apologise for any grammars mistake you encountered while reading. Please, tell me what you think.


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